Family Matters
by Ely-Baby
Summary: This is a story about what happens when the teenaged daughter of Ron and Hermione is impregnated by Draco and Pansy's son. R
1. Blue

Disclaimer: Do I own Harry Potter? Let me think about that – a little bit more– no!

A/N: Oh! It feels strange to start a new fan-fiction, but I'm almost over with all my other multi-chaptered fictions, and I wanted to do something new, something different, something nice, so - here you are. First of all, this story contains a little bit of everything: humour, drama, horror and naturally romance (that's why I placed it under 'General'). Second, since this is the second generation, if you want in the next Author's Note I'll write all the 'families' that I've created. I've tried to stay into cannon as much as possible (sorry no Luna/Ron, Draco/Hermione, Pansy/Harry, Ginny/Blaise, etc… here), as a matter of fact, the couples are just what you expect them to be in the books (except a few, maybe), so Harry and Ginny will be together, but sorry, I'm afraid I won't be able to write anything fluffy about them. One last thing, I really hope that you'll like this chapter, and the whole story. Enjoy it!

To Halo of Darkness: As always a big thank you for beta-reading my work.

**Blue**

Madam Pomfrey rubbed her eyes and glanced again at the small bottle sitting in front of her, full of a blue liquid.

"This cannot be, Poppy," she muttered to herself. "This potion must have passed its sell-by date."

She picked up the bottle and looked at it against the light, then shook it and waited. The liquid inside became green and then slowly black.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Ah, that's better," she said picking up a feather and pouring it into the ink bottle. "Black, the girl has a flu and-" her voice trailed off as she glanced back at the bottle and at the liquid that was now turning blue again.

"Blue?" she asked angrily to herself. "How can this be? Filch will feel my wrath if he dares to buy some other low-cost potions."

She threw the small bottle away and stood up, walked towards a cupboard, and took out another bottle. She read the name on the label and paid lots of attention to the expiration date on the top.

"This one should be fine," she said, sitting back at her desk. She took out a small vial filled with blood and poured some into the bottle. Then she leaned against the chair, sighing deeply.

"Blue," she repeated, rolling her eyes. "I've never seen that potion turn blue. I don't even know what it would mean." She seemed to think for a moment. "It wouldn't mean anything," she decided firmly, "It was just a mistake."

She looked at the other small bottle in the middle of the table and, for a moment, she didn't understand what was happening. She picked up the bottle and smelled the liquid.

"It seems all right," she muttered. "So why does it turn blue?"

She glared at the potion for a long half an hour, hoping to see it turning any other colour but blue. Then, Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and stood up. She walked briskly towards her personal library, filled of books about medicine and picked up a huge tome. She placed it on her desk and opened it, searching for the page about the potion that she was using.

"Ah, here I am," she said finally. "Let's see what they say about the colours which the potion turns. Black is flu, red is measles, white is stomach ache, green is smallpox, blue is-" her voice died in her throat as she mentally read what blue meant. She sat back in her chair, seizing the table as to not fall down.

She tried to calm down a little and steady her breathing. Then, Madam Pomfrey picked up the small bottle and the form of the girl and stormed out of her office, heading determinedly toward the Headmistress' office.

"Switching Spell," she said angrily to the gargoyle statue as if it was its fault that he had to stay there. The gargoyle moved away and Madam Pomfrey climbed up the stairs two at a time, something that she never did since a long time ago. She knocked on the door and without waiting for an answer; she entered.

"Minerva, I have to talk to you," she said crossing the office and sitting in front of the Headmistress.

Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper that she was reading and, for a moment, surprise flittered across her face when she spotted the shaken woman in front of her. "Poppy, are you all right?" she asked her, concerned.

"What?" asked Madam Pomfrey, quickly. "Of course I am. It's not me whom we are talking about."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "No, because we aren't talking about anybody yet."

"What?" asked Madam Pomfrey, confused.

"Poppy, do you want something to drink?" asked Professor McGonagall, sitting up and walking towards the bottles.

"No, thanks, Minerva. I'm here because I think that you must be informed of this," she said and placed the small bottle on the desk right in front of Professor McGonagall.

"Nice colour, but what is it?" asked Professor McGonagall after a while.

Madam Pomfrey glared at her. "This potion, Minerva, tell us what is ailing the patient. Each colour is a different disease."

"Oh, well, and this potion is blue because the person that – wait a minute, who is this potion for?" Professor McGonagall asked, realizing that she didn't know whom she was talking about yet.

Madam Pomfrey pulled out a parchment from her pocket and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who looked down at it. "Miss Rachel Weasley," she read the name on top aloud. "She is the daughter of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, right?" she asked.

"She is," said Madam Pomfrey, nodding.

"And what kind of disease does she have?" asked Professor McGonagall, "Is it something to worry about? Something dangerous?"

"What? No, no, nothing dangerous. And it's not even a disease," said Madam Pomfrey, looking at the bottle as she was waiting for it to change colour again.

Professor McGonagall looked at her and took a deep breath. "Poppy, if it's something important, then please tell me," she said, trying to stay calm.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Minerva, that girl is pregnant."

"What?" asked Professor McGonagall. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"No possibility of mistake?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"I checked it twice," said Madam Pomfrey.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Okay. That's big news to give that girl. We have to be absolutely sure about it. Did she have any clue?"

"I don't know, I don't think so. She just came into the Hospital Wing this very morning complaining of a stomach ache and some sickness. But she was fine," said Madam Pomfrey slowly.

"Okay, okay," repeated Professor McGonagall. "We have to tell her. We have to call her to my office," she said, standing up.

"When? Now?" asked Madam Pomfrey, standing up as well.

"Yes – no – what's the time?" she replied.

"A quarter to midnight," said Madam Pomfrey, checking the clock on the wall. "Maybe we should talk to her tomorrow," she suggested.

"Yes, you are right. Tomorrow morning in my office. Can you come, Poppy?" she asked her.

"Yes, Minerva," she said, sighing. "See you tomorrow, then."

"At nine in the morning, Poppy," Professor McGonagall cried after her while she disappeared out of her office.

---

"Rachel, are you all right?"

Rachel took her chocolaty eyes away from her scrambled eggs and looked at her cousin. "I'm fine, Allyson," she said, smiling.

"What did Madam Pomfrey tell you yesterday?" Allyson asked her.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, she just took some of my blood and said that she'll check out what I had yesterday morning."

"When are you going to know?" Allyson asked her cousin seriously.

"I don't know. I guess that if I have something, she'll call me as soon as she finds out," Rachel said matter-of-factly.

Allyson nodded, then brushed away a lock of black hair from her green eyes and looked at her plate. "You know," she started after a while. "Mum was a little bit disappointed that I wasn't made prefect this year. Last year she was so happy that you became one."

Rachel smiled. "I know. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry sent me a letter, saying that I was exactly like my parents."

"Yep, that also means that you fly terribly," teased Allyson.

Rachel glared at her. "As if I mind," she said after a while, "Anyway, what are you going to do to prepare for your O.W.L.s?"

Allyson looked at her with her eyes wide open. "What am I gonna do for my O.W.L.s? Rachel, school started two months ago."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Last year was the hardest year I've ever had. The exams are terrible. You should prepare yourself and study harder than before and-"

"Sorry, Rachel, can I have your eggs?"

Rachel looked at her plate, which had mysteriously appeared on the other side of the table.

"Malcolm!" cried Rachel to her fifteen-year-old brother. "Can't you take your own breakfast?"

"You weren't eating anymore and I'm late," he said, jamming big pieces of eggs into his mouth.

"I'm still hungry," she replied.

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "Are you? Well, then you should thank me. I won't let you have indigestion."

"You little, stupid, arrogant brother," she said, picking out her wand.

"Rachel, what are you going to do?" asked Allyson, seizing her arm.

"Kill my brother," she said angrily.

"Just for the eggs?" Allyson countered, concerned.

"She is crazy," said Malcolm, swallowing the last piece of egg and finishing Rachel's milk.

"Rachel, calm down. Malcolm, go to your class," said Allyson hastily.

"Which goes the same for you, so you should hurry up, although Professor Slughorn will give you detention anyway – oh, no, wait," he said, slapping his forehead with his palm, "You are in his Slug Club, aren't you? Like my sister, two nice little slugs we have here."

Allyson looked at Malcolm and let go of Rachel's arm. "Okay, Rachel, kill him."

But Rachel didn't do anything. She wasn't even looking at them anymore. She was gazing at the other side of the Great Hall, towards the Slytherin table. Allyson waved a hand in front of her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"You know that you were looking at the Slytherin table, don't you?" asked Allyson, raising her eyebrows.

"What? No, I wasn't," she answered quickly. "I was just staring at the wall," she muttered, turning as red as her hair.

Her brother raised his eyebrows as well and exchanged a look with Allyson. They both looked at the Slytherin table and saw that Emeric Malfoy was staring towards them and he looked away quickly when he spotted them.

"Okay, that's creepy," said Malcolm, pretending to shiver. "Malfoy was looking at us."

Rachel turned redder than before and stood up. "I have to go. I have Defence Against the Dark Arts in five minutes. And you should go, too," she said, storming out of the Great Hall.

Allyson and Malcolm shrugged their shoulders and muttered something like 'prefects', then walked away and headed for the dungeons, where a couple of hours with the Hufflepuffs awaited them.

Rachel, in the meantime, reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and sat down on the first desk.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," she said politely. Lupin looked up from the paper he was reading.

"Good morning, Rachel," he answered, smiling. "How are you? I heard that you went to the Hospital Wing yesterday."

"Yes, but it was nothing serious," she said. "What are you going to do today?"

"Dementors," answered Professor Lupin.

"That should be interesting," she said quickly.

"Indeed, Rachel," answered Professor Lupin. "You know your uncle Harry had to fight against the Dementors lots of-"

"Rachel."

A small, second-year Gryffindor with curly red hair and blue eyes came running towards her.

"Daniel, what are you doing here? You should have Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall," Rachel said to her brother.

Daniel stopped for a minute. It was already incredible that she knew her own timetable by heart, but it was extraordinary that she also remembered the ones of her brothers and her cousins.

"Yeah, well, Professor McGonagall said that this morning's lesson has been cancelled. And she gave me this for you," he said, giving his sister a piece of parchment.

Rachel opened it and mentally read the lines that Professor McGonagall sent her.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," said Daniel at that moment.

"Good morning, Daniel," answered Lupin.

"She wants to see me in her office," she said, frowning. "Professor Lupin, can I-?"

"Since I have never heard of a time that Professor McGonagall has cancelled a lesson, I think that you should definitely go," said Professor Lupin seriously.

"Thanks," she said, picking up her books and walking out of the classroom, without a clue about what the Headmistress had to tell her.

"Can I come with you?" asked her brother, catching up with her.

"No," she said, still walking.

"But I'm your brother," he protested.

"And so? Maybe it's something boring. She'll probably want to talk to me about my Prefect duties," Rachel answered.

Daniel looked disappointed. "Uh, okay, then – see you later."

Rachel nodded, turned the piece of parchment upside down in her hands and looked down at it to read the password. "Switching Spell," she said to the gargoyle statue. The stairs started to move towards the top of the tower and she started to climb up.

She knocked on the door and took a deep breath while she waited for the Headmistress to answer.


	2. Maybe Baby, Maybe Parents

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

A/N: Well, I'm happy! Look how quick is my b-r, that's cool. Anyway, I've decided a great thing: I'll write a "family" in every Author's Note, so you'll be able to keep track of the children. Let's start with the first one, Hermione e Ron: they've three children, all of them in Gryffindor; Rachel (who is 16 years old, is in her 6th year at Hogwarts and, naturally, she's a Prefect), Malcolm (15-year-old boy, he's in his 5th year and he's very like his father) and Daniel (he is 12 years old and he's in 2nd year at Hogwarts). Next chapter: Draco and Pansy. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it's pretty funny.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks for beta-reading this chapter so quickly.

**Maybe Baby, Maybe Parents**

"Come in," said the voice of Professor McGonagall from her office.

Rachel opened the door and walked into the office, but she stopped when she saw Madam Pomfrey sitting near Professor McGonagall.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall in a less stern tone of voice than usually.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," Rachel answered politely. "Good morning, Madam Pomfrey," she added, looking at the nurse.

"Hi, Rachel, dear," said Madam Pomfrey, looking at her intently. "Please, sit down," she added, nodding toward the chair in front of them.

Rachel walked towards the desk and sat down in front of the women, who were staring at her attentively.

"Miss Weasley, how do you feel?" asked Professor McGonagall suddenly.

"I'm fine thanks," she answered mechanically.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "I heard that you didn't feel well yesterday."

"Oh, well, I'm fine now," she said, smiling. She thought that maybe Professor McGonagall has called her just to ask how she felt.

"Are you sure?" asked Madam Pomfrey hastily.

Rachel looked at her without understanding. She wasn't stupid; if she said that she was fine, that meant that she was fine. Rachel nodded.

"Miss Weasley, we have here the results of the test that Madam Pomfrey did with your blood," said Professor McGonagall, patting the papers under her hands.

Rachel looked at them with fear in her eyes. "Is it something serious?" she asked them weakly.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall exchanged looks and then turned their attention towards Rachel.

"Miss Weasley, do you want to inform somebody?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Rachel looked at her without understanding. "Do you mean my parents?"

Professor McGonagall smiled. "No, Miss Weasley, someone closer to you in these days."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Someone closer to me? Do you mean that I could have passed on the disease to other people like my brothers?"

"The disease?" asked Professor McGonagall confused. "Who talked about any disease?"

"Am I not ill?" asked Rachel.

"No, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall answered.

Rachel sighed. "Then why should I want to tell somebody that I don't have anything?"

"Who said that you don't have anything?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't find anything to say. She didn't even understand what they were talking about.

Madam Pomfrey sighed heavily. "Rachel, dear, we wanted to know if you thought to inform somebody like a _boy_."

"A boy?" she said puzzled.

"Your _boyfriend_," explain Madam Pomfrey.

Rachel lowered her eyes, suddenly interested into her hands. "I don't have any boyfriend," she mumbled.

"Believe us, Miss Weasley, we would think higher of you if you told us that you have one," said Professor McGonagall.

Rachel blushed deeply and raised her eyes. "Why?" she asked. Madam Pomfrey almost felt the heat coming from her face.

"Maybe you want to know it at the same moment as your boyfriend," said Professor McGonagall.

"I want to know what?" Rachel asked, without even trying to hide the impatient tone of her voice.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall exchanged another look, something that was starting to annoy Rachel very much.

"Miss Weasley, sit down," said Professor McGonagall, massaging her temples.

"I'm already seated, Headmistress," said Rachel, doing her very best to not roll her eyes in front of her.

"Uh, yes, of course," said Professor McGonagall. "Well, what we wanted to tell you – actually, are you sure that you don't want somebody here with you?"

"Rachel, dear, you are pregnant," said Madam Pomfrey, cutting Professor McGonagall off.

Rachel looked at her and brought her hands to her mouth. "I'm – what?" she asked weakly.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Pregnant, dear. You are expecting a baby."

"I-I – this can't be – I-"

"Should we call somebody?" asked Professor McGonagall again.

Rachel didn't move. She just sat there in front of McGonagall with her face as white as Nearly Headless Nick.

"Miss Weasley, do you want some water?" the Headmistress asked her, waving her wand and making a glass of water appear, which flew towards Rachel.

She shook her head and buried her face in her fingers. "My father will kill me," she said starting to sob.

"Oh, no, dear, no," Professor McGonagall reassured her, trying to sound convincing. "He would never do something like that to his only daughter."

"He will kill me and will be proud to go to Azkaban for that," she said, sobbing loudly.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Oh, my. I don't think that you'll have to worry so much about your father. You are almost an adult."

"Not till next February," she answered, sniffling.

"Come on, Miss Weasley, it would have been worse if you were the daughter of Mr. Malfoy, don't you think?" Professor McGonagall tried to sound cheerful, but from Rachel's face, it was as if she has just condemned her to eat Bubotuber pus for a week.

"His father is Mr. Malfoy," she whispered.

Professor McGonagall looked at her bewildered. "Miss Weasley, when you say 'his', you mean-"

"The father of my child," she said, starting to sob loudly.

Professor McGonagall placed both her hands on her temples and started to rub them quickly, while Madam Pomfrey seized the glass of water that was still flying around Rachel's head and emptied it at once.

Professor McGonagall wasn't so sure any more that Rachel's father would restrain from killing her. "Miss Weasley, you mean that the father of your child is Emeric Malfoy?" The Headmistress asked slowly.

Rachel nodded, wiping away some of her tears.

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath. She picked up a piece of parchment and wrote something down quickly, then handed it to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, give this to the first student that you meet and tell him to let Mr. Malfoy have it. He should be in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and walked out of the office rapidly, patting Rachel's shoulder gently as she passed by.

"Miss Weasley, I hope you understand that Mr. Malfoy has all the right to know that he's going to be a father," said Professor McGonagall. Rachel nodded. "And that you have my support, whatever you decide." Rachel nodded again. "But, before you come to a decision that could harm somebody in any way, let me just remember you how precious is a human life and-"

"Professor McGonagall," said Rachel shyly, interrupting her. "I have all the intentions to keep my baby. Even if I'll be alone against everything and everybody."

Professor McGonagall smiled, then she opened her mouth to reply with something nice, but somebody knocked on the door and she was cut off. "Come in," she said.

The door opened and Madam Pomfrey entered, followed by a tall Slytherin boy.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall, smiling. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Professor," he answered politely.

"Please sit down next to Miss Weasley," she said, gesturing towards a chair near Rachel, who hadn't looked at him once since he entered the office.

"We have to inform you of something," Professor McGonagall announced, trying to sound as calm as if she was going to tell him that he was doing a good job with his Prefect's duties. "Miss Weasley is expecting."

What followed was the most awkward pause of silence that any of them has ever gone through. Emeric looked at Professor McGonagall and at Madam Pomfrey, waiting for them to scream 'joke' or something like that. From the expressions on their faces, that was the last thing that they were going to do.

Emeric cleared his throat. "E-expecting? Do you mean that she is pregnant?" he asked uncertainly.

Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Oh," he murmured. "My father will kill me."

"Yes, dear – I mean no!" cried Professor McGonagall. "Nobody here will kill anybody. Not while I'm still here at Hogwarts and you are under my protection."

Emeric looked at her and sighed. "Then he'll kill you first, Professor."

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "We'll discuss those things later. Now, I think that you and Miss Weasley want to talk."

Emeric and Rachel lowered their eyes and blushed slightly.

"I'll take it as a 'yes'. Let's go, Poppy," she said standing up. "Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, we are right outside," she added, moving towards the door. "Just knock on the door when you have finished."

When the door closed behind them, another awkward silence filled the office, interrupted only by some snorts of the silver machines that used to belong to Dumbledore.

Emeric cleared his throat and twisted his hands in his lap. "So," he started uncomfortably. "Y-you are-"

"Pregnant," she said slowly.

"How long have you been?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"It can't be more than two months ago," he said, "I mean, we didn't see the signs all throughout the summer."

"I know," she answered. "I think it happened after the first Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. You were a little bit too happy," she said.

"It was the first match in which I played as a Seeker. I had all the rights to be happy," he said defensively.

She rolled her eyes. "Is that all you boys can talk about? Quidditch? I'm pregnant!"

"Hey, you brought up the subject," protested Emeric.

"I just wanted to let you know when it happened. There was no need to list down all your abilities at Quidditch," she shrieked.

"I didn't – I just told you that it was the first match in which I played as a Seeker," he snapped.

"Don't snap at me! I'm pregnant!" she said, starting to sob.

He looked at her for the first time and was able to see that big tears were running down her cheeks, before she buried her face in her hands. He stretched his arms towards her and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. She nodded and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, caressing her bushy, red hair.

"I'm fine," she said, sniffling. "I'm just a little bit stressed."

"I see," he said. "I mean, you look tired," he added quickly, as she raised her head and glared at him. "So, are we going to keep him?"

"Of course I am," she said hastily. "And who told you that my child is a male?"

"_Our_ child will be a Malfoy, so, obviously, he will be a male," said Emeric matter-of-factly.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, of course," she said, unconvinced. "Anyway, there's no need to fight over these things; we'll never know what our child will be, because my father is going to kill me as soon as he'll know."

"Same thing for me," he said sighing. "That's so stupid, really. Why couldn't it have happened next year? We would have been adults at least."

Rachel nodded. "I know," she said, looking at him as if she's just realized something. "But, you know that you are taking it quite well? I mean, I thought that you would have screamed and gotten angry and stuff like that."

"Well, I couldn't. Professor McGonagall was right in front of me," he said slowly.

"What?" she asked him, "Just because of Professor McGonagall?"

"Hey, you have just told me that I'll be a father. I had the liberty to scream and get angry," he said swiftly.

"I'd found out that I'll be a mother only some minutes before you and I was calm," she protested.

"Hey, wait a minute, your chats are becoming senseless. I'm not screaming and I'm not angry at all, not with you at least. So what are you talking about?"

"You said that you would have screamed if Professor McGonagall wasn't there."

"I was joking," he said hastily, "Am I screaming?" Rachel shook her head. "And do you see Professor McGonagall?" Rachel shook her head again. "Well, then, there's nothing to complain about."

Rachel bit her lips and nodded. "Sorry," she said slowly.

"It's okay, just don't tell me that for the next nine months it will be like this," he said, smiling.

"I don't know," she said, smiling back.

He leaned down towards her and brushed away a curl from her face, then placed his hand on her cheek and bent down to kiss her on her forehead. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"So," she started when he let her go. "We should tell our parents, don't you think?"

He looked at her with his eyes wide. "Yeah, if you want to die of a painful death, I think we should."

"I mean, sooner or later, they'll find out anyway. So we should give them the – hem – good news."

"Do we really have to? Can't we just pretend that nothing has happened?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yes, of course. So when my belly will be as wide as a soccer ball, what will I tell them? 'Oh, look, I must have eaten too many Chocolate Frogs lately?'" she said sarcastically.

"A soccer ball?"

"Muggle sport," she answered, annoyed that all he understood from her discourse was a mention of sports.

"Okay, listen, you said that your father would have killed you. You can't even imagine what my father would do to both of us," he said seriously.

"He can't be worse than mine."

"My dad used to work for You-Know-Who," whispered Emeric.

"I know," answered Rachel calmly.

"You'll also know that he tried to kill the former headmaster of this place, then," he said.

She nodded. "Well, my parents talk a lot about your family. They don't usually say very nice things."

"My parents, either," he said, sighing. "Well, actually, they will kill us."

"No!" exclaimed Rachel suddenly. "On the contrary. This will be a great opportunity to bring our two families together."

Emeric looked sceptical. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, we'll force them to stay together. For the baby's sake," she said seriously.

"I can't see anybody trying to force my father into doing anything, but we'll try, okay?"

Rachel nodded. "Should we call Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey?" she asked him.

"Do we have anything else to talk about?" Emeric replied.

"No, I don't think so," she believed, thinking hard about if they had forgotten something.

"Okay, then," he answered, standing up and walking towards the door that the Headmistress and the school nurse had disappeared through earlier. He knocked on it and the door opened almost immediately, as the two women had been standing right behind it with their ears pressed on the wooden surface.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Professor McGonagall, trying to sound casual.

"Headmistress, we have talked," said Emeric, sitting back in his chair and taking Rachel's hand between his.

"Really?" asked Professor McGonagall, sitting behind her desk with Madam Pomfrey at her side.

Both Rachel and Emeric nodded. "Naturally, we'll keep the baby," said Emeric. "And – well – I think that we'll have to inform our parents."

"I see," Professor McGonagall said, looking intently at them and seeing that no one was that happy to give any news to nobody.

"So, how do you think you are going to tell them?" she asked seriously.

Rachel and Emeric looked at each other. "We don't know yet," said Rachel.

"Maybe it could help if I organize a little meeting with your families," said Professor McGonagall, smiling.

"Where?" asked Emeric, concerned.

"Here in my office."

"And you'll be here with us?" asked Rachel.

"If you want," said Professor McGonagall.

"We want," said Emeric and Rachel together.

"Very well, we'll need to find a day when your parents can come all together."

"Do you mean that you are going to make them come all at once?" asked Rachel, perplexed.

"Yes, I too have other things to do," said Professor McGonagall. "And I think that it will be easier to tell them at the same time," she added, picking up a couple of pieces of parchment and looking at the students in front of her. "So, Miss Weasley, I reckon that your parents are very busy during the week, right?"

Rachel nodded. "I don't know what shift my father is taking this week, but the Aurors work about ten hours a day, while my mum's new job as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation goes on the whole day."

"Better if we make them come in the weekend," stated Professor McGonagall. "Same thing for you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Actually, Professor McGonagall, my parents don't need to work, but they will definitely be happier to come here during the weekend," he said seriously.

"Let me check when I'm free," she said, running her eyes over all the little pigeonholes of her calendar. "This Saturday I have a meeting with the other professors and the next one there is the first trip to Hogsmeade. I don't think that you want to lose the opportunity to go there, right?"

"No," said Emeric happily.

"Actually, I think that we should call them that very day," said Rachel seriously. "Most of the students will be out for the trip, so nobody will notice the fact that our parents will storm out of the castle with murderous looks."

"What?" asked Emeric, not believing what he was hearing. "I can't believe that you don't want to go to Hogsmeade."

"I want to go to Hogsmeade, but this is more important," she insisted.

"No way, I have to pay a visit to Zonko's," he said, crossing his arms.

"But we are talking about our child here," she said, while tears filled her eyes.

"No, no, okay," said Emeric hastily. "Professor McGonagall, Saturday will be fine for me."

Rachel wiped away her tears. "Thanks," she said.

Professor McGonagall nodded and wrote down two identical letters, then rolled them up and handed them to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, give these letters to Filch and tell him to send them right now," she said.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, you may go now. I think you are still have enough time for a good half an hour with Professor Lupin," said Professor McGonagall dismissively.

Rachel and Emeric nodded and stood up. "Thank you, Professor," said Rachel.

"You are welcome, Miss Weasley," she answered while they walked out of the office and joined their fellow schoolmates in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.


	3. Telling the Grandparents

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except for the plot and the children.

A/N: Well, not a big response I'm getting here. Never mind, I simply wrote this story because I liked the idea, not because I wanted – desperately wanted – reviews, as usual. Anyway, for my few readers, I promised to write about a family in every Author's Note, and this time is Draco and Pansy's turn. They have just one child, Emeric, who is in his 6th year and is a prefect. Not much to say about him, but next time Harry and Ginny. Now, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it's one of my favourite, I think it's funny. Lol.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for beta-reading this chapter and for all the other things you are doing for me.

**Telling the Grandparents**

The two weeks after the conversation with Professor McGonagall passed quite peacefully and, sometimes, boringly. The headmistress had sent the letters to the parents of Rachel and Emeric, and she had also received positive replies. Exactly the day after the letters were dispatched, Hermione Weasley had sent her answer: a long and nice letter written in her neat writing, where she said that she and her husband were very happy to attend a meeting with her, even if she hasn't talked about the reason behind the reunion. She really hoped that it was nothing about her second child, because she knew that he was always in some kind of trouble and had already received three other letters about him.

Pansy Malfoy's answer arrived with the delay of a week. She liked to keep people waiting just for her own fun. She didn't understand why Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to her and her husband, but they convened to go anyway and see if it was something that concerned their only child.

Both Emeric and Rachel received letters from their parents, and Malcolm got a Howler without even knowing why. But they all gave vague answers to them, saying that maybe Professor McGonagall needed some parents she could trust for the Governing Board of Hogwarts, or maybe they had been chosen to spend a week in the Isle of Drear.

As the Saturday set for the meeting approached, everybody became more nervous. Allyson found her cousin in the girls' bathroom, crying at every hour of the day – and sometimes throwing up – but she never said what was wrong. She and Emeric had decided to keep the secret until the day of the meeting, while Emeric had snapped at all his fellow Slytherins and always wore the same expression that seemed to say that he was going to die in the next few days, which wasn't so improbable after all. Professor McGonagall too seemed quite anxious at the idea of spending an afternoon with the Malfoys and the Weasleys in her office. She decided to pack up all the delicate ornaments of the room and lock them in the cupboard.

Luckily, all the other students and teachers were too concerned about the first trip to Hogsmeade of the year. And that was the main subject of conversation in the Gryffindor common room on the Friday evening before the trip.

"I can't believe that you can't come to Hogsmeade," said Allyson to Rachel while she was trying to finish her essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"My parents are coming to Hogwarts, and Professor McGonagall wants to see us all," she answered, shrugging her shoulders and taking her eyes away from the book she was reading.

"Hey, I don't have to come with you, right?" asked Malcolm slightly concerned at the idea of spending all Saturday afternoon with his parents instead of his friends.

"No, I don't think so," answered Rachel slowly.

"But what does Professor McGonagall want?"

"I don't know," said Rachel, trying to sound casual.

"If she says something about the Boggart in Professor Slughorn's cupboard, tell her that it wasn't me," said Malcolm.

"How do you know about the Boggart in Professor Slughorn's cupboard? Only the Prefects and the Heads know that, and he asked us to keep silent about it," said Rachel, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, well, Leonard told me that," said Malcolm, unconvincingly.

"Leonard?" asked Allyson, sceptically. "Do you mean our cousin Leonard? The son of Uncle Percy and Aunt Penelope? Mister Perfect Prefect, Mister Know-It-All, the Head Boy and only Weasley that was sorted into Ravenclaw?"

"Him," said Malcolm, looking everywhere but at his cousin.

"I don't think that he would have let slip something like that. He is also in the Slug Club," said Allyson.

"Okay, maybe it wasn't him who that told me, maybe-"

"Maybe it was you who put the Boggart in the cupboard," said Rachel, cutting off her brother.

"How dare you doubt my honesty?" he said, pretending to be indignant.

Rachel laughed. "Your honesty, please," she said, waving a hand in front of him. "Anyway, Allyson, do you know what I was thinking about? That Leonard isn't the only Weasley to not have been sorted into Gryffindor."

"Really?" asked Allyson, waving her essay to make the ink dry.

Rachel nodded. "Damien, Delphine, and Michelle aren't in Gryffindor."

"Okay, sorry, I wanted to say: Leonard is the only Weasley who has gone to Hogwarts that has not been sorted into Gryffindor. Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill's children don't count because they are in Beauxbatons. Happy now?" she asked sarcastically.

"Happy," answered Rachel, smiling. "Tell me if there's something new at Honeydukes, will you?" she added, stretching her arms out above her head.

Allyson nodded. "I'll also tell you if there's something new at Zonko's."

"There's always something new at Zonko's since Uncle Fred and Uncle George bought it," said Malcolm eagerly. "I can't wait to go there. I need a new Fanged Frisbee."

"They are not allowed at Hogwarts," said Rachel firmly.

"Who cares?" answered Malcolm, standing up and walking towards the boys' dorm, while Allyson and Rachel followed him with their gaze. When he disappeared up the stairs, Rachel shook her head. "He is very much like my father sometimes."

"I know," said Allyson, putting her essay away into her bag. "He is funny."

"I meant that he is annoying," said Rachel slowly.

Allyson shrugged her shoulders. "I think that they are funny."

"Oh, yes, very funny if you have to see them a couple of days a week, but try to spend all your life with them, I think that you'll start to think that they are a little bit – annoying," she said matter-of-factly.

"Okay, I believe you," Allyson said quickly, standing up. "I'd better go to bed right now. This stupid essay about werewolves tired me out."

"Good night, then," said Rachel, looking back to her book.

"Good night," she answered sleepily, walking out of the common room.

"Are you going to bed?" asked a small voice at Rachel's shoulders. She turned her head and met her younger cousin's eyes.

"Yep, I'll finish the chapter and I'll be off to bed, too, Wyatt," she answered to the short black haired boy. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I can't get the Levitation Charm right and I wondered if you could help me," he asked slowly.

Rachel nodded and closed her book. "Let me see what you are doing wrong," she said, smiling, while Wyatt sat down next to her and thanked God to have such a know-it-all as his cousin.

In the meantime, on the other side of the castle, in the cold common room built under the lake, a tall blond boy sat on an armchair with his feet propped up on a small round table and stared at the fire that danced in the fireplace. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes without any evident reason.

"What's bothering you, Emeric?" asked a very unpleasant feminine voice.

"Nothing, Sybella," said Emeric, trying to sound casual.

"Are you sure?" said the girl, who had milk and coffee skin and a very attractive face.

"I'm sure," he said, picking up a book from his bag and pretending to read it.

"Then why can't you come to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" asked Sybella.

"I've already told you that my parents are coming to Hogwarts and we have to meet up with the headmistress," he said, annoyed. "By the way, why do you want to know?"

"I'm just curious," she said, trying to sound innocent.

Emeric snorted. "Are you sure that my mum didn't owl your mother to tell her that we have to meet up with Professor McGonagall and your mum didn't ask you to keep an eye on me and try to find out something?" He asked suspiciously.

Sybella waved a hand in front of him. "I'm not a sneak," she said simply. "Plus, my mum didn't ask me anything. It was my dad who did it."

Emeric rolled his eyes. "Well, you can tell your dad that that's none of his business."

"My dad will get really angry if I'll tell him," she hissed.

"I don't mind," said Emeric, diving behind the book.

"I'll owl your parents then and tell them that you are being mean to the only daughter of your mother and father's best friends," she said. "They'll punish you."

"They'll punish me anyway after tomorrow," he muttered bitterly.

"What?" she asked hastily.

"Nothing. Now can I go on reading?"

"You are not reading."

"I'm trying to read, but you keep on distracting me," he snapped.

Sybella grimaced at him and stood up. She moved to the closest table and started to write the essay about werewolves that she had to hand in on Monday. Sybella poured the quill into an inkbottle and started to write down her name in her sloppy writing.

_Sybella Zabini…_

"Can't you write without muttering all the words? I'm trying to read here," retorted Emeric.

Sybella snorted and kept on writing saying the words even louder, just to annoy him. Emeric glared at her and cursed the day that Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode had the brilliant idea to marry and have a daughter. He stood up and walked towards the boys' dorm. Emeric lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, thinking that if his father was really going to kill him the next day, he should have gone out and had a little fun, maybe with that old grumbler of Filch and his stupid cat. But, after all, he wasn't so sure he was going to die, was he?

---

Professor McGonagall checked the grandfather clock in the corner of her office for the tenth time. It was half past two in the afternoon and the Weasleys and the Malfoys would arrive in less than half an hour. She looked around the circular room until she was perfectly sure that there was nothing fragile. She didn't take her gaze away from the shelves. McGonagall didn't know what to expect, but she was sure that something would be flying across the room very soon.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when somebody knocked at the door.

"Come in," she said firmly.

Rachel entered the office and closed the door behind her. "Good afternoon, Professor," she said politely.

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley. How do you feel today?" she asked her, gesturing to sit down on one of the six chairs that were placed in front of the desk.

"I'm fine, thank you. I've just a little bit of stomach-ache," she said, placing a hand on her belly, which was still not too big to be noticed under her robes.

"Maybe your school uniform is becoming too small and starting to hurt you," ventured Professor McGonagall.

Rachel nodded. "I had difficulties trying to close the last button of it this morning," she said matter-of-factly. "Maybe I should disguise it with a spell."

"No, I don't think so," said Professor McGonagall, "You should tell your mother to buy a couple of bigger skirts for you."

Rachel nodded and, at that very moment, someone else knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Professor McGonagall, checking the clock again. Only ten minutes had passed since the last time she looked. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy," she greeted Emeric, "Please, take a seat next to Miss Weasley."

Emeric nodded and sat down next to Rachel.

"Professor McGonagall, I wanted to give you something," he said, handing her a piece of parchment.

Professor McGonagall took it and started to read. "I leave all my books to the Library of Hogwarts. I want to confess that it was me who transfigured the Head badge of Leonard Weasley into a frog last month. I hope that somebody will throw all my Dungbombs onto Sybella Zabini's bed because I can't get into the girls' dorm and she is an unbearable-" The Headmistress voluntarily chose not to read the last word and looked at Emeric. "Mr. Malfoy, what is this supposed to mean?"

"It's my will," he said matter-of-factly.

Professor McGonagall sighed, rolled up the parchment into a ball and threw it away.

"No!" screamed Emeric. "You still have to read that I want to leave all my savings to Rachel and our son."

Rachel hid a smile while Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Mr. Malfoy, you won't die – not today, at least."

"You don't know my father, then," he muttered.

"Oh, of course I know your father. I know him very well. I was his teacher when he attended Hogwarts. He can be a little bit nasty sometimes, but he is not a murderer," she said calmly.

"He will start today, then," said Emeric bitterly.

"No, he won't, Emeric. Professor McGonagall won't permit that," said Rachel, placing a hand on his knee and smiling at him. He smiled back, in some way comforted by her words.

At that very moment, someone else knocked on the door. Professor McGonagall jumped to her feet and checked the hour again. "There are still five minutes left before three o'clock," she said, agitated. "How can they already be here?"

"Well, five minutes are not so many, Professor McGonagall," stated Rachel.

The Headmistress nodded. "Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, sit on the chairs in the middle. Miss Weasley, your parents will sit at your right, Mr. Malfoy, yours at your left," she said hastily.

"Hem, Professor?" called Emeric shyly. "I would prefer to sit on the outside. I would feel a little bit safer knowing that the door is near me."

Professor McGonagall looked at him. "You'll sit in the middle, Mr. Malfoy. I don't want your fathers to be too close," she said sternly while there was another knock on the door. "Come in," she said, trying to sound calm.

The door opened and a woman with long, bushy brown hair and chocolaty eyes entered, followed by a tall man with red hair.

"Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley," said Professor McGonagall, sighing in relief. "How are you?"

Hermione smiled. "We are fine, Professor McGonagall. And ready to talk about-" she stopped, trying to focus on the people in the room, "-Rachel? We thought it was something about Malcolm."

Professor McGonagall smiled. "No, it's about your daughter, but don't worry, she didn't do anything deplorable."

Rachel felt her cheeks burning under the eyes of her parents. "Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad," she said innocently.

"Hello, Rachel," said Hermione.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall. Hey, Rachel," said Ron, smiling. He walked to the desk and took a seat next to his daughter.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Mr. Weasley, can you sit down on the other chair? Yes, thank you. And you, Mrs. Weasley, can sit between your daughter and your husband. Thanks a lot," she said quickly.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" asked Ron, exchanging looks with Hermione while they changed their seats.

"I'll tell you soon, but there are still a couple of people for whom we are waiting," said Professor McGonagall, looking at the clock again. "They'll be here in a few minutes."

But Ron wasn't listening to her. He was looking at the boy sitting next to her daughter, who was sweating copiously and twisting his hands in his lap nervously.

"And who are you?" asked Ron, smiling.

Emeric looked at Ron, afraid, and opened his mouth to stammer something, but the door, which burst open, cut him off.

"Professor McGonagall, I hope that it will be something quick because my wife and I have to go to the elves' market this afternoon; our old elf has just kicked the bucket," said Draco Malfoy, crossing the office with big steps, followed closely by Pansy. They both stopped when they noticed that the room was filled with people who stared at them with their mouths wide open.

Draco glared at Ron, then looked at Professor McGonagall. "I must have mistaken the day or the hour of our meeting, Headmistress, because it's clear that today is the day to 'take care of a Weasley.'" He turned his eyes to Ron again. "Have you come here to beg for some money, Weasel?"

"How dare you, Malfoy?" asked Ron, standing up and stepping towards Draco.

Rachel looked at them with her hands on her mouth while Emeric was as pale as Moaning Myrtle.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, calm down," said Professor McGonagall, standing up as well. "And Mr. Malfoy, you haven't mistaken anything. I called Mr. Weasley and his wife here just as I called you."

Ron and Draco glared at each other for a long moment, both trying to maintain their eyes on the other. Finally, Hermione sat up and seized Ron's arm, forcing him to sit down again, while Pansy sat next to her son and Draco sat next to her. Every now and then, Ron and Draco glared at each other.

"Now that we are all here, I think that we can get started," said Professor McGonagall, sitting back and looking furtively at Ron and Draco. "I think that you know each other pretty well," added Professor McGonagall. Hermione, Draco, and Pansy nodded, while Ron muttered something like 'stupid ferret'. Professor McGonagall ignored him. "But maybe the ones that you don't know are these students," she said, gesturing towards Rachel and Emeric. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, this girl is Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's daughter, Miss Rachel Weasley," Professor McGonagall introduced her. "And this young man is Mr. Emeric Malfoy," said the headmistress towards Ron and Hermione. Draco and Pansy looked intently at Rachel and when they looked away, they didn't seem convinced about her, while Hermione smiled at Emeric, who smiled back, and Ron glanced at him cautiously.

"Professor McGonagall, I can't understand why you called us here with the Weasleys and their daughter," said Pansy slowly.

"Everything will be explained, Mrs. Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall, smiling. "First of all, I want you to free yourselves from all your prejudices towards the other family. Second, I won't permit any angry gesture against anybody, especially your children."

"Why should I want to be angry at my daughter if you said that she hadn't done anything deplorable?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"And third, place your wands on my desk, please" she said, ignoring Ron.

"What?" asked Draco, "That's outrageous."

Both Hermione and Pansy placed their wands in front of Professor McGonagall. Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs and nodded toward the desk.

"I'm not going to deprive myself of my wand if Malfoy doesn't do the same," he protested.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and lazily waved her wand in front of her. Ron and Draco's wands flew into her hand. "Thank you," she said, picking up Hermione and Pansy's wands and placing them all in a drawer.

"Now that we are ready to have a civil conversation," she said, stressing the word civil, "Your children have something to tell you."

Rachel and Emeric looked at the Headmistress terrified. They didn't expect that. They would have rather preferred to sit there peacefully while the war raged around them.

"Come on," Professor McGonagall said encouragingly.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Sooner or later, they'll find out anyway," said the Headmistress, smiling.

"Find out what?" asked Ron, looking intently at his daughter.

Rachel cleared her throat and gulped. "Find out that I – well – I'm-"

"Come on, Rachel. It can't be anything that bad," said Hermione, smiling.

Rachel nodded. No, it wasn't bad. After all, she just happened to be pregnant with the son of her parents' worst enemies' only child. Was that so bad?

"Imprgnat," she mumbled so quickly that nobody, not even Emeric, understood her.

"What?" asked Ron, leaning on Hermione's shoulder and coming closer to Rachel. "I didn't understand."

"I think she said that she is presbyopic," said Pansy.

"Really?" asked Ron, scratching his forehead.

Rachel shook her head. "No," she muttered. "I said that I'm pregnant."

The silence that fell on the office was so heavy that after a while, they started to hear the noises of the silver objects packed up in the cupboard.

Ron was as pale as ghost, while Hermione was biting her lips and wringing her hands. Both Rachel and Emeric seemed to be extremely interested in the floor.

The first to break the silence was Draco Malfoy with a laugh. "Hey, Weasel. Seems like Weasels can't help multiplying like rabbits," he said derisively.

Professor McGonagall glared at him. "Mr. Malfoy, do you think that I called you here just to make fun of Miss Weasley?"

Draco looked at the Headmistress with his eyebrows raised, trying to reflect on her words. Then, he looked at his son, and back again at Professor McGonagall. He pointed a finger towards Emeric and then at Rachel, muttering something that was impossible to understand. "You mean that – you don't mean that – are you sure that-?" He tried to ask, paling.

Professor McGonagall nodded and settled her spectacles on her nose.

"I think I didn't get it," said Pansy, looking at her husband.

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath. "Miss Weasley is expecting a baby with Mr. Malfoy," she explained calmly.

Ron shook his head as if he was trying to wake up from a nightmare. "No," he muttered. "No, my daughter pregnant - that cannot be. She is just a child."

Hermione placed a hand on his knee and Rachel couldn't help noticing that her mother resembled herself just a few moments ago with Emeric. "Come on, Ron," she said to him. "I'm sure that there's a good explanation about the whole thing."

"We are becoming grandparents, Granger. What better explanation should there be?" said Pansy, who seemed the less upset of the whole group.

Hermione glared at her. "My surname is Weasley now," she hissed.

"Grandparents? No. Grandparents – I can't be a grandparents," muttered Ron, staring at his hands.

"No, Ron. Actually, you'll be a grandfather," said Hermione, matter-of-factly.

"Hmmm, while Weasley tries to form a sentence, I would like to know how this thing happened," said Draco, who was slowly recovering from the shock and stared at his son, who didn't dare to look at him and blushed as deeply as Rachel did.

"Mr. Malfoy, I think that we all know how these things happen," said Professor McGonagall sternly.

Draco looked at her. "I didn't mean that thing," he said quickly. "I meant how did it happen that my son, a Malfoy, will have a baby from that Weasley girl."

"I think that 'love' is the right word," said Professor McGonagall.

Draco glared at his son. "You mean 'love potion,'" said Draco.

"No, I really mean 'love.'"

"Emeric! Emeric, look at me," said Draco with authoritativeness. Emeric turned his head slowly towards his father and looked at him. "Are you in love with this girl?" Emeric nodded, ready to receive a big slap, but Draco simply closed his eyes as if his son had just betrayed him and mentally counted to ten.

"See? He is under the influence of a love potion," said Draco when he opened his eyes again.

"I'm not, father," said Emeric hastily.

"He doesn't know what he's saying."

"I do know!"

"He is confused," stated Draco calmly.

"I'm not," replied Emeric, annoyed.

"He couldn't have done anything with a Weasley. He is a Malfoy."

"I love her," Emeric almost screamed, blushing furiously.

Draco looked at him horrified, while Rachel stared at him, taken aback by his words. "You didn't just say that you love a Weasley," said Draco.

"I did," his son retorted breathlessly.

"She is the daughter of a blood-traitor and a Mudblood," said Draco angrily.

"Mr. Malfoy, please don't use such words in my presence," shrieked Professor McGonagall.

"I don't care if she is what she is," said Emeric hastily. "I love her and she is bearing my child."

Draco leaned against the chair. If only he had his wand with him, he would have resolved the matter quickly. He started to rub his temple where a big vein was pulsing. Draco tried to think of something to say to convince his son that he has been charmed, but his thoughts were interrupted by the great noise of a chair falling on the floor and some steps near him.

"You!" screamed Ron, seizing Emeric by his collar. "You forced my daughter into having sex," he said, bringing Emeric's face close to his.

"I didn't," Emeric tried to say while his face turned red.

Rachel jumped to her feet and ran towards her father. "Dad, let him go," she screamed, grabbing her father's arm. "He didn't force me into doing anything."

Hermione, Draco, and Pansy all stood up at once and crowded around Ron.

"Keep off your hands off my son," screamed Pansy while Draco punched Ron on his nose.

"Ouch," cried Ron, letting go of Emeric.

Rachel bent over him. "Emeric, are you all right?" she asked, concerned.

He nodded breathlessly while his mother and Hermione bent over him as well.

"What a great demonstration of intelligence and civilisation," said Professor McGonagall, glaring at the two men. "I wonder how you could have given birth to such good students as Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy."

Ron muttered something incomprehensible while rubbing his nose and Draco crossed his arms on his chest, looking out of the window.

"I really hope that this child won't resemble you too much," continued the Headmistress.

"There won't be any child," said Draco firmly.

Everybody looked at him, Rachel and Emeric visibly terrified.

Ron was the first to speak. "For the first time, I have to say that I agree with Malfoy," he muttered.

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, standing up and looking at Ron while her eyes flashed dangerously.

"She can't have that baby," said Ron, looking everywhere but at his wife.

"She is pregnant, Ron," stated Hermione.

"Well, she has to – you know what she has to do," he said, matter-of-factly.

"No, sorry. I don't know what she has to do except give birth to her child," said Hermione, gaining admiring looks from Rachel, Emeric, and Pansy.

"Hermione, do you really want to be the grandmother of a Malfoy?" Ron asked, finally looking at her.

"I don't care who I'll be the grandmother of, as long as my daughter is happy," she said firmly.

"She is not even an adult," said Ron, glancing at his daughter.

"I'll be an adult in February and Emeric will be in January, so when the baby is born, I'll do whatever I want," said Rachel, standing up next to her mother.

"They are still at school. Who do you think will take care of the baby?" asked Ron to Hermione, ignoring his daughter.

"I will," said Rachel.

"They are not even married," snapped Ron.

Hermione glared at him, but didn't say anything. Ron bit his lips for a moment, then looked out of window into which Draco was staring. "I'm not going to be the grandfather of a Malfoy," said Ron, walking towards the desk. "My wand, please, Professor McGonagall," he said, stretching out his arm.

"What do you want to do?" asked Hermione nervously.

"Just go home," answered Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, if you only try to talk with your daughter and with Mr. Malfoy, you'll see that they are a wonderful couple of students and-"

"My wand, Professor McGonagall, please," said Ron firmly.

The Headmistress sighed and opened the drawer, placing all the wands on the desk. Ron picked up his own wand and put it in his pocket. "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," he said politely, "Malfoy." He nodded towards Draco. "Let's go, Hermione," he added without even looking at Rachel and Emeric.

Rachel turned red with anger and some tears started to fall down her cheeks while she screamed at her father. "If you don't want to be the grandfather of a Malfoy, then maybe you should disown me."

Ron stopped for a while in front of the door. "Maybe," he muttered, opening it and exiting the room.

"Well, I can't believe what I'm going to say, but what Weasley said isn't so wrong after all," stated Draco.

Rachel burst into tears and Hermione hugged her. "Don't worry, Rachel. I'll talk to your father. He won't disown you."

Rachel hugged her mother back and nodded.

"And you, Malfoy," said Hermione, glaring at Draco. "Just stay away from my daughter."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who attacked someone here," said Draco defensively.

"I know, but I don't like that you agree with Ron," said Hermione.

"I don't like it, either," said Draco, picking up his wand and walking out of the office as well. "Hurry up, Pansy, the elves' market closes at six in the afternoon," he said calmly.

Pansy rolled her eyes and looked at Hermione. "I'll keep an eye on him. You should do the same with your husband," she said, turning up her nose while she picked up her wand.

Hermione nodded. "Good afternoon, Pansy," said Hermione while she left.

Pansy nodded back. "Good afternoon, Hermione, Professor McGonagall. Goodbye, Emeric," she said.

"Mum, I think you should go as well. Although, Dad will left you here, I think," said Rachel, sniffling.

Hermione smiled, caressing her daughter's hair. "Don't worry. I can get home by myself and, plus, I have the keys," she said, taking out of her pocket a ring of keys.

Rachel smiled, and so did Emeric and Professor McGonagall.

"Well, I'd like to hear from you at least once a week, Rachel. Will you owl me?" asked Hermione, picking up her wand.

"Of course," said Rachel, wiping away her tears.

"Emeric, it has been a pleasure for me to meet you," Hermione said, stretching out her hand towards him.

"F-for me, too," said Emeric, taking her hand and shaking it.

Hermione smiled. "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley."

"Bye, Rachel. Let me know how things are getting on," said Hermione, walking away. While she exited, she heard Professor McGonagall sigh deeply and murmur, "See, Mr. Malfoy? You are still alive."


	4. Everybody Knows

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I own all the next generation pupils.

A/N: Sorry for the delay with this chapter, my beta was moving, and I've just found out the Kansas City isn't in Kansas. It was a bit of shock. Anyway, I hope you'll find this chapter funny, I like it, but I've just found out the my favourite chapters are the last three. Anyway, I've to add a "family tree" in this Author's Note, what about Harry's? Harry and Ginny have two children: Allyson (she's 15 years old, 5th year in Gryffindor) and Wyatt (a first year Gryffindor). Next time the twins. Now, enjoy the chapter and thanks for the patience.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter, for all the commas that I missed and for all the capital letters that I didn't write.

**Everybody Knows**

Allyson looked thoughtfully at her cousin with a Sugar Quill in her mouth; she had been acting strangely lately. Rachel had been paying a visit to the Hospital Wing almost every day, but she didn't look like she was ill. On the contrary, she was eating quite a lot these days, and, Allyson noticed, she was putting on weight quickly, but she didn't seem to care.

Allyson stood up from the armchair on which she had been sitting and walked towards Rachel. "I know what you have," she said, suddenly sitting down next to her.

Rachel looked up at her from her Herbology essay and raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she asked uncertainly.

Allyson nodded. "You always go to the infirmary and you are eating for two," she said, pausing and lowering her voice. "You have been received a love delusion from someone," she said knowingly.

Rachel had to suppress a fit of giggles. "Hey, you are really intelligent," she said sarcastically.

Allyson looked at her. "If it's not that, then what the hell do you have?" she asked, annoyed.

Rachel placed involuntary a hand on her stomach and looked around to make sure that there was nobody around who could hear her. "I guess that I can tell you," she said, half smiling. "Your parents will already know it."

"Why should my parents know it?" Allyson asked, puzzled.

"Because my mum and dad discovered it yesterday and my mum will have surely owled your parents and everybody else," Rachel replied, sighing.

"Yesterday with Professor McGonagall?"

Rachel nodded.

"So?" asked Allyson hastily.

"You have to promise that you won't tell anybody," said Rachel seriously.

"I swear that I won't tell anybody," Allyson said, amused by all the secrecy.

"I'm pregnant," whispered Rachel.

Allyson looked at her suspiciously. "You are joking, aren't you?" she asked, unsure.

Rachel shook her head, took her cousin's hand, and placed it on her belly.

"I can't feel anything," said Allyson flatly.

Rachel snorted. "It's because the baby is still small, but if you pay attention, you'll notice that my stomach has a strange shape."

Allyson moved her hand around on Rachel's stomach and finally felt that there was something strange. It was bigger, as if it were bloated.

Allyson looked at her cousin with her eyes wide. "I-I – you – who is the father?" she stammered.

Rachel lowered her eyes. "Emeric Malfoy," she whispered.

"No, okay, I knew that there was something strange going on, but this is pure science fiction," she responded, laughing.

"Sorry, but it's all true," said Rachel as Allyson's laughter faded away.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Am I becoming the cousin of a Malfoy? I will have to call his parents 'uncle and aunt', won't I?" asked Allyson, horrified.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Rachel. "They didn't seem really happy about the whole thing. Just like my father," she said bitterly.

"How did Uncle Ron take the news?"

"Let's say that he tried to strangle Emeric – not on purpose, though," she added quickly. "And it's also very likely that he'll disown me," she added, sighing.

Allyson looked at her surprised. "Oh, yes, as if Grandma Molly will ever permit something such as that," she said, smiling.

"You didn't see him. He was so upset. I don't think that he will listen even to his mother," said Rachel, shaking her head.

"What about Aunt Hermione?"

"Oh, well, she was fine. She wasn't jumping with joy, but she took my side against my dad," Rachel answered slowly.

"And the Malfoys?" asked Allyson, sensing the answer.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "They are scary, and if I were Emeric, I wouldn't go back to Malfoy Manor for the Christmas holidays this year," she said, looking at the fire.

"We are only in October. The Christmas holidays are still far away. They have all that time to change their mind," said Allyson wisely.

"We'll see," said Rachel, going back to her essay. "But I don't think that I'll go home as well for Christmas," she said.

"You can't stay at Hogwarts. It's sad," stated Allyson.

"It's not if Emeric stays too," she answered.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't ask yet – how did it happen?" asked Allyson, looking at the floor.

Rachel gulped and looked at her essay before answering. "How did what happen?" she asked back.

"I know from where babies arrive," Allyson added hastily, "but I wanted to know how you fell in love with Emeric Malfoy."

Rachel smiled and looked at the fire. "It's a long story," she said vaguely.

"I have time," insisted Allyson.

"But I don't," said Rachel, standing up and putting all her school books into her bag. "See you tomorrow, Allyson," she added, waving a hand and walking towards the girls' dorm, leaving behind an utterly curious Gryffindor girl.

---

The next morning, Rachel was sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating a double portion of eggs and an indefinite number of toasts. Every so often, she raised her eyes from her plate and glanced at the Slytherin table, smiled at Emeric, who smiled back at her, and then she attacked her eggs again with hunger, gaining some shocked looks from the other students.

"Did you know that you are starting to eat just like I do?" asked Malcolm, amused by his sister, who looked at him with pieces of eggs all around her mouth.

"Don't you dare say something like that," she said, swallowing the eggs and pointing a fork at her brother.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders and sat down next to her, helping himself to some eggs and sausages. "I received a letter from Dad yesterday," he said casually.

Rachel's fork stopped in the air in front of her mouth and she stared at Malcolm. "And?" she asked weakly.

"He asked me to keep en eye on you," he replied, as if he were talking about the weather.

"He did what? I am the one that used to keep an eye on you," she almost shrieked.

"Times change," he answered, half-smiling. "What have you done to deserve my guard?"

"Your guard?" Rachel asked, trying to stay calm. "I didn't do anything – that is any of your business," she added quickly when her brother opened his mouth to complain.

"Never mind, I'll know it soon or later. I sent a letter to Dad asking why I had to keep an eye on you," Malcolm said haughtily.

Rachel smirked. "Then you'll probably receive a Howler. It might already be on its way to Hogwarts."

Malcolm glared at his sister. "I don't mind, but I'll tell Dad that I won't do anything if he doesn't inform me about everything."

"Oh, looks like this year, there will be lots of people with me at Hogwarts for Christmas," she said slowly.

"What are you talking about? Aren't you coming home for Christmas?" he asked, choking over his eggs.

"I don't think so," she muttered.

"Why?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "And don't tell me that it's none of my business, because I'm your brother. Of course it's my business," he said seriously.

Rachel looked at him taken aback, than she stared back at her plate. "I had a fight with Dad," she started slowly.

"About what?"

"About," She hesitated for a moment while she attacked her eggs ferociously with her fork. "About the fact that I'm pregnant," she whispered.

She heard Malcolm's fork falling on the table with a clang, but didn't dare to look at him. "Are you sure?" he asked hoarsely.

She nodded, bringing a piece of toast to her mouth and chewing it slowly.

"And do you know who is the father?"

She turned her head towards him so quickly that she thought that her neck was going to break. "Of course," she hissed.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Who is he?"

"Emeric Mal-"

"Malfoy?" Malcolm almost screamed. "I can't believe you."

She hushed him. "Lower your voice. Do you want everybody to hear you?"

"Sorry, but that's so – hey, Dad has all the rights to get mad at you," he said sharply.

"You are just like him," she stated, shaking her head. "Mum wasn't so angry after all."

"Because Mum is a woman," said Malcolm.

"And so?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows

"She is all like, 'Oh, my gosh, a baby! That's so cute'," he said in a girlish voice.

"Oh, yeah. That's why she asked me how come I didn't get pregnant earlier," said Rachel thoughtfully.

"Really?" asked Malcolm, opening his eyes wide.

"No," she answered, rolling her eyes.

"So," he said teasingly, "I now understand what you were doing while attending to your 'Prefect duties'," he said, signing the inverted comas with his fingers. "I hope I will be made Prefect too," he said, sighing. "With that Ravenclaw girl, preferably."

"Su Davies?"

Malcolm nodded. "She is so pretty."

"Well, when I was out for my Prefect duties, I was doing my Prefect duties," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "By the way, don't tell anybody what I told you, okay?" she asked anxiously.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, but sooner or later, the truth will come out," he said, nodding towards her belly. "Am I the only one that knows?"

"No, Allyson knows as well," she said.

He muttered something that sounded like 'girls', then he looked at his sister, grinning. "Can I tell Daniel?" he asked hopefully. "And our cousins?"

Rachel looked at him, evidently pondering the answer. There were seven of their cousins at Hogwarts right at that moment, which wasn't exactly a few. "I guess that you didn't catch the meaning of 'don't tell anybody', right?" she said, sighing. "Okay, you can tell them. But only Daniel and our cousins."

Malcolm nodded and smiled, then he bent towards Rachel's belly. "Hi, there. I'm your uncle," he said happily.

"Yeah, well," said Rachel, sitting up with a smile across her face. "Sorry, but _we_ have to go to Defence Against the Dark Arts. See you at lunch," she added, walking towards the door.

She walked all the way down toward Professor Lupin's classroom. When she reached the class, a hand seized her arm and held her back.

"How do you feel?" asked Emeric when she turned to face him.

"Now that you are talking to me, wonderfully," she said, standing on tiptoes and kissing him quickly.

"And how does the baby feel?" he asked, placing a hand on her stomach.

Rachel smiled and placed her hand on his. "The baby is fine; it's always hungry."

"Don't make excuses. I see you eating from the Slytherin table. You're staring to eat like your brother," said Emeric, raising his eyebrows.

"Maybe it's my brother that eats like a pregnant woman – hey, what do you mean by that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, I was just joking," he said hastily.

She looked at him intently for a while. "I told my cousins and my brothers about the baby," she said after a while. It wasn't completely true, but she didn't underestimate the speed of her brother when was spreading news about her.

Emeric looked at her with his mouth open. "Really? Do you think it's a good idea?" he asked.

"They'll find out sooner or later," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"I guess so," said Emeric. "It's not like your family will wait for me in a hallway and stuff like that because I'm the father, right?"

"No, don't worry. They'll have to walk over my corpse," she said, laughing.

"Great, thank you," he said sarcastically.

"You are welcome," she answered. This time, he bent down and kissed her.

At that very moment, the door of the classroom burst open and Professor Lupin looked out. Rachel and Emeric stopped kissing and stepped back quickly.

"Well, well, well," said Lupin, walking back to his desk, followed by the two students. "Our future parents testing life together, hmm?"

"How do you know?" asked Emeric alarmed.

"All the teachers have been informed," said Lupin, smiling. "Therefore, we'll be prepared when Miss Weasley will be close to the end of her pregnancy."

"Why?" asked Rachel.

"I'm not an expert about these things – you should ask Madam Pomfrey – but naturally, a pregnant woman, or girl, in this case, is to be taken under strict control," said Lupin matter-of-factly.

Both Emeric and Rachel nodded.

"So, how did your parents take the news?" he asked them.

"Not very well," said Rachel, wringing her hands in her lap.

"I expected that," said Professor Lupin. "Well, but you are still alive. Aren't you happy?"

Emeric and Rachel exchanged looks, but the sounds of the other students walking into the classroom saved them from answering, and the lesson began.

---

Rachel had to go to Madam Pomfrey at least one day out of three. If it wasn't for the stomach-ache, it was for the sickness, and if it wasn't for the sickness, it was for the headache. Madam Pomfrey took advantage of her visits to check her health every time. And every time she was glad to see that everything was fine.

"So, Miss Weasley, I think that you and your baby are both fine," said Madam Pomfrey, smiling.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," said Rachel, smiling back. "I was wondering about something, though."

"Yes?"

"I was curious to know the gender of the baby," she said.

"Oh, Miss Weasley, it's too early," the nurse said, sitting down at her desk. "Let me see. When did you say you conceived the baby?"

Rachel thought quickly. "When was the last Quidditch match?" she asked shyly.

Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrows. "I don't know, let me check," She looked at a calendar. "Here: the 25th of September. This year, the Quidditch Championship started earlier," she said distractedly.

Rachel nodded. "Well, the 25th of September," she said, blushing.

"Well, we are in October – almost November – so I think that in January, February, at the most, you'll be able to know the gender of your baby," said Madam Pomfrey.

Rachel looked deluded, but she smiled. "Okay," she said simply. She grabbed the small bottle with some medical potion in it and bid Madam Pomfrey good evening.

When she exited, a small crowd of people squeezed up around her. She looked at them with her eyebrows raised. "Yes?" Rachel asked uncertainly.

"Is it true?" asked her cousin Wyatt.

"What?" she asked as she looked around and saw that lots of the people that were there weren't her cousins, and not even her friends.

"That you are pregnant," said Daniel, lowering his voice.

A murmur spread across the crowd of students.

"Is there someone else here that doesn't know yet?" she asked angrily.

"I don't think so. It was a big rumour, so it spread quickly," said a girl with sandy hair, smiling.

"Thanks," said Rachel, rolling her eyes. "Where is my brother?"

"I think he is in his dorm," said Daniel. "He said that he had to hide for a while because the situation had slipped from his hands."

"Thanks, Daniel," said Rachel, storming away from the crowd and walking towards the Gryffindor common room.

The next day in the Hospital Wing, there was another Weasley. Madam Pomfrey was trying to cure his black eye and, smiling, she said, "Mr. Weasley, you have to watch out for pregnant women. They are all mixed up by hormones."


	5. Best Friends

Disclaimer: What would I give for owning Harry Potter, but unluckily it's not mine. Not at all.

A/N: Here I am with a new chapter! Finally I can concentrate a bit on the parents, I really hope that I portrayed them well, because it was kind of difficult, especially Harry, I never understand what he thinks/wants. Well, by the way, Fred and Angelina have Phoebe and Matthew (both in seventh year and both in Gryffindor, a girl and a boy), whilst George and Katie Bell have Alexis and Thomas (both in seventh year and both in Gryffindor, a girl and a boy ). Naturally Phoebe and Matthew haven't red hair… Oh well, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it's not exactly funny, but it has some humour. LOL.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter, even if I know how much you hate R/Hr!

**Best Friends**

Hermione sat on a chair in her kitchen, still wearing her nightdress, with a cup of tea in her hands. Sipping some of her tea, she sighed heavily and looked at Ron. He was sitting outside in the garden, under a tree, and was cleaning all the brooms he managed to find in the broom closet. He was brushing the broomsticks with such loathing in his eyes that you would have thought that those brooms had done something very bad. The result was that he had already broken two of them.

A week had already passed since they were given the 'good' news from their daughter, but Ron hadn't gotten over it yet and it looked like he wasn't doing that anytime soon.

Hermione looked at the pile of letters that lay on the table. Most of the them were replies to the letters that Hermione had sent to inform the whole Weasley family about the Rachel's pregnancy. Ron didn't even open them, nor did he seem to care if his mother was too happy to offer them all her help in taking care of the baby. He just went to work for the whole week as if nothing had happened and worked as hard as he had never done. That week, Harry was out of the city for work, so he didn't get the chance to talk to him, but since he was his best friend and brother-in-law, he had been informed by Ginny about the fact that Hermione and Ron were becoming grandparents, who had received one of Hermione's letters.

Hermione took another sip of her tea, which was getting terribly cold, then stood up from the chair, moving towards the kitchen window and knocking on it, trying to capture Ron's attention.

Ron raised his eyes from the broom that he was trying to kill and looked at her. Hermione pointed at her mug and then fingered towards him, asking him silently if he wanted her to prepare breakfast for him. Ron shook his head vigorously and went back to the broom.

Hermione rolled her eyes and for a moment she was torn apart between going out and screaming at him to just accept the fact that their daughter was pregnant with a Malfoy, and going upstairs and ignoring him for the day, like she had done for the whole week. She chose the second option; much less painful.

She spilt the remains of her tea in the sink and washed her mug, then she took a step towards the stairs, but as soon as she placed a hand on the railing, somebody knocked on the door.

"Just a moment," she said, closing the dressing gown around her body and walking towards the door. She opened the door and looked at the man that stood in front of her, then she smiled.

"Hi, Hermione," said Harry, smiling back at her.

"Hi, Harry," she said.

He bent down and kissed her on her cheeks twice.

"How are you?" she asked him, closing the door behind his back. "How was your trip to Ireland?"

"Actually, it was quite nice," he answered, following her into the kitchen. "Tonks and I managed to find Goyle very quickly. He first robbed a couple of banks and then a cake shop, so all we had to do was following the sugar clues."

Hermione smiled.

"So, Ginny just told me that you and Ron are becoming grandparents," he said, trying to hide a grin.

Hermione looked at him seriously. "Yeah, well, if I were you, I wouldn't say that in front of Ron. He is very sensitive about jokes on this subject."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Really? Isn't he happy?"

"Harry, do you know who we are talking about? Ron! He almost strangled that Malfoy boy – not on purpose," she added quickly.

"Oh, yeah, because there is the problem of Malfoy. Ginny told me something about that," said Harry vaguely.

"I'm sure that Ginny told you everything," said Hermione seriously. "But well, if you want to hear it from a first-hand resource, well, we are going to become related to the Malfoys. But we met the boy and he is very different from his father, a good guy."

Harry looked at her as if she had gone mad. "He is a Malfoy," he said stressing the word 'Malfoy'.

"I know," said Hermione, "But we shouldn't have those prejudices. He was very nice and he said that he loves Rachel."

"Oh, then everything is all right," said Harry sarcastically. "What about Malfoy? Was he happy?"

"Like a child on Christmas morning," said Hermione sarcastically. "Luckily Professor McGonagall took away our wands before the meeting."

"Did she? Really?" asked Harry, laughing.

Hermione glared at him. "So are you here to just talk or did you come for something serious?"

Harry slapped his forehead with his palm and smiled. "Right, luckily, you reminded me. Ginny has invited you and Ron for lunch tomorrow."

Hermione looked outside of the same window of before. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully, looking at Ron as he threw away another broken broom. "Mrs. Weasley asked us to go to the Burrow as well, but Ron didn't answer me when I asked him if he wanted to go. Actually, it's already been a week that he hasn't spoken to me."

Harry looked out of the window as well. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll talk to him," he said seriously.

Hermione looked at him, concerned. "Please, Harry, don't say anything about Rachel, okay?"

Harry smiled. "I won't," he said unconvincingly, opening the door and walking out in the garden.

"Hey, Ron," he greeted him eagerly.

Ron looked up from the broom that he was torturing at that moment. "Hey," he said unenthusiastically before turning his attention back to the broomstick.

"Aren't you going to ask me about my trip to Ireland?" Harry asked, sitting down next to his friend on the cold grass of that November morning.

Ron shrugged. "How was your trip to Ireland?" he asked him flatly.

"Good, we managed to catch Goyle. He robbed a cake shop," said Harry, laughing.

Ron nodded. "Nice," he said distantly.

"Hey, Ron, is everything all right?"

Ron nodded.

"Then why are you trying to kill all your broomsticks?" Harry asked, looking at the pile of wood laying near Ron that was ready to be burned.

Ron frowned and started to brush the broom with more energy than before, with the result that some of the wooden bristles at the end of it flew away.

"Is it because of Malfoy that you are so upset?" questioned Harry, trying to sound casual.

_Crack_. Ron's broomstick broke in his hands and he threw it on top the pile of wood.

"So, Ginny just gave me the good news," said Harry, trying hard not to laugh.

"What good news? There is no good news," muttered Ron, attacking another broom.

"The news that Rachel is-"

"And do you think that that's good news?" hissed Ron, glaring at him, "I thought that Hermione would have told you not to talk about that. She always says that to all the people that come here."

"She did tell me not to talk about that," said Harry, grinning.

"She is wise, Harry. She has always been wiser than us. You should listen to her," said Ron sharply.

"Oh, come on, Ron. You are my best friend. I just wanted to be sure that you were fine," protested Harry.

"I am fine."

"Hermione said that you haven't been talking to her for a week," stated Harry.

"We have different points of view," he muttered.

"About your daughter?"

"About everything."

"Ron, she's pregnant. What do you want to do? Disown her?" asked Harry, smiling again.

"Maybe," he muttered.

"You are joking," confirmed Harry as his smile faded away.

"She was the one that proposed that," said Ron.

"Who?"

"Rachel."

"Rachel proposed what?"

"That I should disown her," said Ron bitterly.

"She is expecting. You know how pregnant women are, all muddled up by hormones. Can't you remember that time when Hermione locked you out of the house because you forgot to buy her the mushrooms?" Harry asked, laughing.

Ron didn't seem to find it funny. On the contrary, he glared at Harry and picked up another broomstick.

"How many broomsticks do you have?" asked Harry, looking at him.

Ron grunted something like 'enough' and started to brush the stick.

"So you are going to become a grandfather. Aren't you happy?" asked Harry teasingly. Maybe he wasn't aware that he was playing with fire.

"Would you be happy if Allyson got pregnant with the child of-" He thought for a while. "-Blaise Zabini's son?" he finished.

"I thought that Zabini had a daughter," replied Harry, smirking.

Ron broke another broomstick.

"Listen, Ron, maybe you have to relax a little about the whole thing. Your daughter is pregnant, so? You'll just have another Weasley in the house," he said happily.

"A Malfoy, Harry," said Ron through gritted teeth. "A Malfoy."

"Okay, sorry, a Malfoy," repeated Harry, sighing. "But Hermione said that that Malfoy boy wasn't so bad."

"He is a Malfoy," said Ron in the same way Harry did with Hermione.

"And a half Parkinson, don't forget that," said Harry, laughing.

Ron pointed the broomstick towards Harry and started to punch him in his stomach softly. "Do you think that it's funny? Do you think that I should be the happiest man on Earth because my daughter is pregnant? Well, I have some news for you: it's not funny and I'm not happy."

"Hey," said Harry, pulling the broom away. "I was just joking. But, Ron, after all, it is not the end of the world."

Ron looked at him and for a moment, Harry thought that he was going to hex him, but Ron opened his mouth and said rather calmly, "She is not yet an adult and she is already pregnant with the child of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. She is not married and still has two years to spend at Hogwarts before taking her N.E.W.T.s. Oh, no, it's not the end of the world; it's worse," he said bitterly.

Harry seemed to think for a moment about his words. "Well, if you say it like that, it doesn't sound very good," he said uncertainly.

"I know," muttered Ron.

"But, Hermione seemed quite happy. And Ginny was so cheerful when she told me yesterday evening after I arrived home," said Harry.

"Women," said Ron with sufficiency. "You should have seen Mrs. Pansy Malfoy. She seemed so happy to have another Malfoy in her Malfoy Manor that it seemed as if she couldn't get enough Malfoys."

"You know that you used the word 'Malfoy' four times in that sentence, don't you?"

"And?" asked Ron rudely.

"Aren't you a little bit obsessed?" asked Harry, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Ron said curtly.

Harry looked at him and smiled. "Come on, Ron. You can always say that you are the first of all your siblings to become a grandfather."

"Harry, I'm thirty-seven. I'll be the first on Earth to become a grandfather at that age," he replied, glaring at him.

"Aren't you happy? You broke a record," said Harry, biting his lips to keep from laughing.

"Don't you have anything to do at home?" hissed Ron. "Unpack your things after the trip; clean up the house; snog my sister; eat some Bubotuber pus?"

Harry laughed. "No, sorry. Nothing that you listed."

"Something else?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Nope, but I have something to ask you," he said as his laughter faded away. "Ginny has invited you and Hermione for lunch tomorrow. Are you coming?"

"Did you ask Hermione?" asked Ron rudely.

"Yep, she said to ask you."

Ron nodded. "We are not coming then."

"Oh, Ron, come on," said Harry. "Ginny told me not to come back home if you don't agree."

"Then sleep on the couch in my living room," snapped Ron. "Ginny just wants to chat about senseless things with Hermione."

"So? We don't have to listen to them," said Harry, smiling.

"No, thanks," said Ron rudely.

"Oh, come on, Hermione is coming," lied Harry.

Ron glared at him. "Then tell her to prepare something for my lunch before she leaves."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, okay, I'm sure that she won't come if you don't come as well."

Ron smirked. "Then don't tell her anything."

"Bloody hell, Ron. You are so annoying," snapped Harry. "I don't know how Hermione can stand you sometimes."

Ron shrugged and bent down on the broomstick that he had just picked up.

"So you are going to be in a huff with the world for how long, if I can ask?"

"As soon as that Malfoy boy will fall down some stairs and break his legs or as soon as my little daughter will come home and say, 'Dad, I'm not pregnant anymore and guess what? I hate that Malfoy boy.' Then I won't be in a huff anymore with anybody," said Ron.

"Great, and since these things will never happen, when are you going to come back to normal?" asked Harry practically.

"Never," snapped Ron.

Harry felt the urge to punch him hard on his nose, but he managed to restrain himself. "Listen, Ron," he said as calmly as he could, "I think that the only thing that you have to do is accept what's happening to your daughter. Maybe Malfoy isn't so bad, after all."

Ron grunted something incomprehensible, but Harry caught some words such as 'damn Malfoy' and 'ferret'.

"Well, Ron, it's quite late," said Harry, checking his watch, "and Ginny needs me with the cleaning. So what should I tell her?"

"Tell her that she should keep her nose out of other people's business," said Ron rudely.

"Well, I guess that's a, 'No, we are not coming tomorrow for lunch', right?"

"Right."

"Okay, mate, but let me tell you that Ginny won't be really happy about that, so if you find her behind your door tomorrow morning, I would rather not open it," stated Harry.

Ron nodded.

Harry stood up and brushed away the grass from his jeans. "If you want, I can pass by tomorrow and we can play some Quidditch in your garden."

"No, I'm not in the right mood for Quidditch," said Ron without looking at him.

Harry rolled his eyes and started to walk away. "Okay, see you, then – _grandpa_," he added, smirking. After a minute, Harry felt something hitting his legs and he fell on the ground with a clung.

"Don't you dare joke about something like that again," said Ron, nearing Harry and pointing his wand at him. He muttered the counter-curse while the latter looked at him with his eyebrows raised.

"I was just joking," said Harry, standing up.

"As I've just told you, don't joke about things like that," Ron hissed.

Harry shook his head and walked into his best friend's house. Hermione looked at him from the stairs. "What did he say?" she asked calmly.

"He is not too eager to come tomorrow. Maybe it's better if you two stay at home," said Harry, rubbing his back on which he had just fallen.

"Okay," said Hermione miserably, climbing down the stairs. "Harry, thanks for having talked to him," she added, smiling.

"Sure, Hermione – hem – can you lend me some Floo Powder? I don't really feel like Apparating home right now," he said.

"Did he hex you?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"He petrified me, but it was my fault. After all, you did warn me not to mention Rachel," Harry stated.

Hermione looked towards the door that led to the garden. "Maybe I should try to talk to him. If he would only answer, at least I would know that he is listening."

"Just give him time. He needs to get over this thing by himself. Rachel is his daughter and he loves her. Things will end up well," said Harry, smiling.

"Thank you, Harry," said Hermione.

Harry smiled and hugged Hermione, who hugged him back. "It's better if I go now. Ginny is waiting for me. I have to help her clean up the house."

Hermione nodded. "Greet Ginny for me."

"Of course, Hermione," said Harry before stepping into the fireplace and disappearing into green flames.


	6. Slytherins' Slimy Plans

Disclaimer: Don't own what you recognize, just everything else.

A/N: Well, not much happens in this chapter, but it's pretty important for the character of Sybella. She's a real Slytherin – no offence to all the Slytherins' supporters! –, she's pretty mean, if you ask me. Anyway, I really hope that you'll enjoy this chapter, next one will be better, I swear! Have fun! Oh, yes, the family! What about Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley, they are pretty important, you know. They have three children: Damien, who is a 7th year boy, Delphine who is a 5th year girl and Michelle, who is a 4th year girl as well… But they attend Beauxbatons. See ya!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter. You rocks girl!

**Slytherins' Slimy Plans**

Sybella Zabini sat in the Slytherin common room with a letter from her parents in her hands and an evil grin across her face. She knew, like everybody else at Hogwarts, that Rachel Weasley was expecting Emeric Malfoy's son, and that thing made her quite amused. In fact, against all the expectations, she didn't fancy the son of her parents' best friends, not at all. On the contrary, she didn't stand him as much as he didn't stand her. And that was the reason why she was smiling while reading her parents' letter.

The letter had arrived that very morning, with a big grey owl. It landed in front of her at breakfast and she took the envelope from its claws hastily, without understanding why her parents were sending something. But when she read the few lines that her mother wrote her, she realized that they needed her for something very mean, and that, she thought, was really good; finally, they trusted her enough to allow her to do something important.

"What are you smiling about?" asked one of her friends at the Slytherin table.

"Nothing," Sybella said hastily, sitting up and walking out of the Great Hall. When she reached the Slytherin common room, she sat down next to the fireplace and started to think hard about how to make things work; so hard that she didn't notice a tall blond boy staring at her from behind.

"You are too damn quiet, Zabini," he stated, stepping towards her slowly, "What's up with you?"

Sybella quickly shoved the letter into her pocket and turned her head towards him. "Nothing," she answered. Then, when she realized who she was talking to, she added, "Nothing, daddy."

Emeric glared at her. "I bet you were reading something," he said, looking at her inquisitorially.

"As if that were any of your business," she said scornfully.

"It was a letter from your parents, wasn't it?" he asked, sitting on an armchair across from her.

She opened her eyes wide for a moment, but recovered almost immediately. "It's still not any of your business," Sybella retorted.

"Well, if my mother is right," he said, waving a piece of parchment under her nose. "It is."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, bemused.

Emeric raised his eyebrows. He lowered his eyes to the parchment and read, "'Emeric, pay attention to your friends because your father has already written all their parents. I don't know what he is up to. Have a nice weekend.'"

Sybella looked at him murderously; she wouldn't have let him destroy her moment of glory. "My father was just sending me the recipe for pancakes," she said quickly. Actually, she had just glanced at the page they sent her, but it really looked like the procedure for pancakes.

"Pancakes? Do you think that I'm that stupid?" asked Emeric, looking intently at a blushing Sybella.

She shrugged. "Don't believe me; I don't care," she said, sitting up and walking away.

"If it's really a pancake recipe, let me see it," he said, following her.

She started to run towards the stairs and climbed the stairs of the girls' dorm two at a time. Without thinking, Emeric followed her up the stairs. Immediately, the stairs turned into a slide and he fell down, crashing his nose on the floor. He heard Sybella laughing from the landing above him. "Do you still want to see the recipe?" she asked mockingly.

Emeric glared at her, feeling some blood running down from his nose. "You can't stay there for the entire weekend," he said and walked away towards the portrait hole.

"Emeric, I was waiting for you. My mum has just – what have you done to your nose?"

Emeric looked at Rachel and took a little time to understand what she was saying. "What?" he asked slowly.

"What have you done to your nose?" Rachel asked again.

"Oh, this," said Emeric, touching under his nose, "Nothing. I was just trying to climb up the stairs of the girls dorm, but the stairs turned into a slide and – what?" he asked her as her eyes gradually became narrower.

"Why were you trying to go to the girls' dorm?" she asked him slowly.

"Let me explain," he said, gulping nervously. He had seen Malcolm Weasley walking around with a black eye that week. "Sybella had just received a letter from her parents and I wanted to be sure that it wasn't anything dangerous."

Rachel's eyes came back to normal. "Did your mum send you something?" she asked, "because my mum did."

Emeric nodded. "Yes, she did. She said to pay attention to all my friends."

"That's what my mum wrote: pay attention to all _your_ friends," she said.

"My mother and yours must be corresponding," stated Emeric.

"I guess so," said Rachel, smiling, "that's nice."

Emeric nodded. "I'm sure that my father doesn't know about that."

"My dad, too. If he knew, I think that he would have killed my mum," said Rachel calmly. "Let's go now."

"Let's go? Where?" he asked as she took his hand.

"To the Hospital Wing," she said matter-of-factly. "Your nose is bleeding and I have to take a potion for my headache."

"Hem, right – how are you doing?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Like a pregnant woman. This morning, I threw up before breakfast and then-"

"I meant now. How are you doing now?" he asked, cutting her off, while very unpleasant images passed in front of him.

She snorted. "Thank you for your interest. Anyway, now I'm fine. I had a little fight with my brother over the eggs at breakfast, but I won."

"So we'll find him in the Hospital Wing as well?" he asked cautiously.

She shrugged her shoulders again. "If he needs to go to Madam Pomfrey for a spoon in his nose, I guess so," she said nonchalantly.

Emeric gulped and at that very moment, they reached the Hospital Wing. He pushed open the door and found Malcolm sitting on the first bed, while Madam Pomfrey was attempting to extract a small spoon from his right nostril.

When Malcolm noticed her sister entering, he jumped to his feet and Madam Pomfrey fell on the bed behind with a spoon in her hand. He looked at Rachel with fear in his eyes and glanced at Emeric with a pitiful look. Then he ran away without saying a word.

"Rachel, dear – oh my! Mr. Malfoy, what have you done to your nose?" Madam Pomfrey asked, concerned. She threw away the spoon and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"I fell," said Emeric, stepping towards her.

Madam Pomfrey raised her wand and pointed it at him. "_Episkey_," she said. "Now, now, isn't that much better?" she asked eagerly.

Emeric touched his nose. "Yes, thank you. But what about the blood?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Don't you learn anything at this school? _Tergeo_!"

"I knew that spell, Madam Pomfrey," said Rachel, smiling. "And I also knew the other one," she added.

Emeric looked at her and rolled her eyes. He opened his mouth to answer, but Madam Pomfrey spoke before he could. "Mr. Malfoy, I wouldn't rather say anything. Did you see Mr. Weasley? It took me fifteen minutes to get that spoon from his nose," she stated. "And about this, Rachel, what did he do to you?"

"He stole my eggs from my plate at breakfast," she said matter-of-factly. "Can I have some other potion for the headache?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Rachel, you have to control yourself, I know that hormones don't help in this case, but he is your brother, not a Death Eater."

"I know, it's just that I was so hungry," she said sheepishly.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Well, usually that should not be an excuse, but since you are eating for two – yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

Emeric had raised his hand about his head. "I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but I wanted to ask you something. I think that my father is up to no good. He had alerted all his friends and you know that some of their children come here to school; this morning Zabini received a letter and she was happy. Should we worry about the baby?" he asked seriously.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him surprised. "Your father did what? I can't believe Draco Malfoy. What does he think he is doing? He should pay more attention. He is only out of Azkaban because Scrimgeur is a fool," muttered Madam Pomfrey, almost to herself.

"Really?" asked Rachel, concerned.

"Oh, well, let's just say that if I were him, I wouldn't do anything suspicious," stated Madam Pomfrey, walking towards the cupboard and picking up a small bottle. "Because if he is caught doing something harmful to the daughter and niece of some of the best Aurors in the Ministry, I think that he'd beg to go to Azkaban rather than face a confrontation with the Weasleys."

Rachel looked darkly at her. "Or maybe my dad would give him a medal for his noble actions."

"Don't be silly, Rachel," said Madam Pomfrey sternly, shoving the bottle into her hand. "Naturally, your father loves you. You are his daughter."

"Oh, yes, unluckily, he doesn't like Emeric or my son," she said.

"You know what you should do?" Emeric looked at her seriously. "You should go home and talk to him, maybe while you are eating eggs. If you shove a spoon into his nose like you did with your brother, I bet that he'll listen to you."

Rachel glared at him. "Funny," she muttered.

"I'm not joking."

"Maybe I should shove that spoon into your nose then," she said between gritted teeth.

Emeric glanced at the spoon nervously.

"Come on, there's no reason to get angry," said Madam Pomfrey, looking at them. "By the way, you have to pay attention. I'll talk to Professor McGonagall. She'll keep an eye on Sybella Zabini."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," said Rachel politely.

"You are very welcome," she answered. "Well, now, I think that you should go. Don't you have classes this morning?"

They both shook their heads. "No, we just have Potions this afternoon," said Emeric.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Very well," she said distractedly.

Emeric and Rachel bid her goodbye and walked out of the Hospital Wing. When they were out of there, Rachel took the small bottle and brought it to her mouth, emptying it in one sip.

"What are you drinking?" asked Emeric.

"It's the potion for my headache. It's good, tastes like raspberry," she said, licking her lips.

"Let me try it," he said, taking the bottle from her hands. "Are you sure that you had to drink it all at once?" he asked, turning the bottle upside down and noticing that it was empty.

She shrugged. "Who cares? My headache is much better now."

"Well, maybe it's not good for the baby that you take all these things," he stated.

"Rubbish. And if it was dangerous, Madam Pomfrey would have told me, wouldn't she?" she asked knowingly.

"I guess so. Oh, right!" he exclaimed, suddenly standing in front of her and seizing her arms. "What you drink!"

She looked at him as if he had gone mad. "What I drink?"

He nodded. "What you drink – I mean, pay attention to what you drink!"

"What?" she asked puzzled.

"I'm sure that Sybella will slip something in your drink or food," he said seriously. "It's easy. You keep on eating."

She raised her eyebrows. "Thanks for saying that I keep on eating," she snapped, "anyway, I'm smart enough to know not to accept anything from her or any of your fellow Slytherins."

"Pay attention anyway," he said hastily. "My father is well determined to keep the Malfoy blood far from the Weasleys."

"He wouldn't make an attempt on his grandson's life, would he?" asked Rachel, concerned.

"You never know," said Emeric darkly.

"Maybe I should shove that spoon into his nostril," replied Rachel, smiling.

Emeric couldn't help smiling either. He bent down and kissed her. When they broke apart, he licked his lips. "Hmmm, it really tastes good, that potion for your headache. I wonder if Madam Pomfrey has some for me, too."

Rachel smiled. "You have to ask her. See you later," she said, stepping away.

"See you later? Where are you going?" he asked, following her.

"Well, first, I have to go to the bathroom – do you want to follow me there? – and then I'll go to the Gryffindor common room and eventually I'll go to the library," she said, counting the places on her fingers.

"We can meet up in the library," he suggested.

She looked at him seriously. "I want to study."

"Me, too," he said defensively.

She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "What do you have to do?"

He shrugged. "Something of this, something of that," he answered vaguely.

"Well, I have to do an essay for Ancient Runes and one for Defence Against the Dark Arts," she answered.

"And what about Potions?"

She glared at him. "Potions is this afternoon. Naturally, I've already done everything."

"Really? Can I have a look to your essay?" he asked, smiling.

"No! You have to do it by yourself," she said firmly.

"Just a look," he begged.

"Nope!"

"But will you correct mine?"

She looked at him. "Just correct it," she said slowly.

He nodded. "Of course," he said unconvincingly.

"See you in half an hour then," she said, disappearing into the girls' bathroom.

"Half an hour? What do you have to do?" he asked her, but she just waved her hand in response.

They spent the morning in the library, studying. Or, at least, Rachel was studying. Emeric was snorting every now and then while writing his Potions essay, so that at the end, Rachel took it and finished it for him. At lunch, Malcolm sat far away from his sister and at the end; he stood up, walked towards her, and offered her some of his roast beef. She accepted happily.

Potions that afternoon seemed to last for days instead of only an hour, but at the end, they were given a quite pleasant surprise. Slughorn would be having a party soon, only for the Slug Club, and Rachel and Emeric were naturally invited. He said that he would introduce them to the famous Quidditch player Oliver Wood, something that caused the happiness of all the boys and some of the girls, who thought that he was actually the best-looking player in all of England.

Rachel tried to avoid the conversation because she didn't really care about Quidditch but the news spread everywhere. Everyone was talking about the Slughorn's upcoming party and about how lucky the members of the Slug Club were. The result was that she snapped at some first years and confiscated the dinner of her younger brother.

From another part of the Great Hall, another girl didn't really care about Quidditch. Sybella sat there looking at Rachel Weasley and trying hard to find a way to do as her father told her.


	7. Talks

Disclaimer: The Potter-verse belongs to J.K.R.

A/N: Hey! This update comes pretty quickly, doesn't it? Okay, I had fastest updates, but never mind. So, well, I'm really starting to run out of ideas for my Author's Notes (I'm wondering what was up with me when I used to write long and elaborate poems after that A/Ns). By the way, our family of the week is Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater. They have only one son, Leonard, he's seventeen years old and he's in Ravenclaw (I had to fight the temptation to place him in Slytherin…), oh yes! And he's Head Boy – great news here… Well, hope you'll like this chapter, I think it's funny! Enjoy it!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter, and I'm happy that you found it funny!

**Talks**

Draco Malfoy heard footsteps outside his bedroom and then someone tried to open the door, in vain, because he had locked it.

"Draco Malfoy!" he heard Pansy screaming. "Open this door right now!"

"No!" he said hastily.

"What are you doing?"

"None of your business," he snapped.

"I'm your wife and that's my bedroom in which you are locked. Of course it's my business!"

Draco snorted and stood up from the chair he was sitting on. "What?" he asked, banging the door open.

Pansy looked at him intently. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he answered harshly.

She tried to look over his shoulder, but he was much taller than her and blocked her vision of the room. She stood on tiptoes and Draco placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down. She glared at him. "Well, if you are doing nothing, I should be allowed to see," she said, bending down and passing under his arm.

"No! Pansy!" Draco followed her into the bedroom, but she was too quick and picked up the parchments on which Draco had been writing.

"Did you know that my mother wasn't allowed to stick her nose into my father's business?" he asked her, trying to take back the pieces of parchment.

"That's why your father ended up in Azkaban."

"What are you talking about? And give it back!" said Draco, chasing his wife all over the room.

"If your mother would have stuck her nose into your father's business, she would have warned him that what he was doing was completely wrong," she said, jumping on the bed with her shoes and climbing down on the other side.

"My mother was very supportive of my father," said Draco, circling the bed.

"What do you mean? Are you trying to say I'm not supportive?" she asked, jumping on the bed again.

"Not even half my mother was with my father," he said, smirking.

"Just because I won't let you kill our grandson doesn't mean I'm unsupportive," she said seriously.

"Don't call him that," said Draco firmly.

"What?"

"Grandson. He has not been born yet," Draco spat out fiercely.

"Oh, well, so you are still confessing that you are planning to harm him in some way," said Pansy, looking at the parchments in her hands. At that very moment, Draco jumped on her and they rolled down the bed onto the floor.

"Ouch," cried out Pansy as she landed on her back. "You are going crazy," she muttered to Draco, who was still trying to take back the parchments from her hands.

"Just because I want you to stay out of my business? Don't they call that privacy?"

"Not if you kill your wife," she said, pressing on her elbows and trying to sit up, while Draco tried to reach for the parchments once again.

"Take your stupid letters," she cried, throwing the pieces of parchment at him and standing up, rubbing her back. "Now tell me why you are writing to Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini."

Draco stood up as well and shoved the parchments into his pocket. "Just to keep in touch," he said as he walked towards his desk.

"Aren't you asking them to furnish you with some strange herbs and potions?" she asked him suspiciously.

"Strange herbs and potions? What are you talking about, woman?" he said, trying to sound as casual as he could.

"You know what I'm talking about," she said seriously with her hands on her hips. "Last week, you asked me if we had a book of healing potions and yesterday you spent all day in manor library, and when you came out, you had that book under your arm," she added, pointing towards the desk where a rather huge tome lay open on it.

"It's about creating your personal Shrunken Head," he replied vaguely.

Pansy raised her eyebrows. "_Accio Book_!" she said, pointing her wand at the book.

"No!" cried Draco, trying to catch the book before it flew into Pansy's hands, but he missed it.

Pansy read the name of the potion on the top of the page and glared at him. "What are you trying to do with an abortion potion?" she asked, feeling her anger rising.

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Well?" asked Pansy harshly.

"I don't know why you are so keen to mix up your blood with the Weasleys', but I won't let my only son have a child from her," he said, walking towards Pansy and grabbing the book from her hands.

"I'm not keen to mix my blood with the Weasleys'," she answered angrily, "but I won't let you kill my grandson."

"You are crazy," stated Draco, sitting down on his chair.

"No, _you_ are crazy," she cried.

"She is the daughter of that blood traitor Weasley and that Mudblood Granger," Draco screamed at her. "Can I remind you of that?"

"Emeric loves her, and we should respect his choice," said Pansy.

"He is out of his mind, just like you," said Draco bitterly.

"The time of Death Eaters and Purebloods is finished, Draco," cried Pansy. "It finished the night that Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who."

Draco glared at her. "Voldemort has nothing to do with this," he said coldly. "He was a Half-Blood himself."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Then what's wrong with you? In this world, there isn't a single wizard or witch that hasn't Muggle blood in his or her veins," she said vehemently.

"Malfoys don't have Muggle blood," he blurted.

"Well, in a few months, they will," said Pansy, smirking.

Draco glared at her. "You are not taking it seriously. It's a great insult to my family." He paused for a while. "Your family," he added.

Pansy shrugged. "I don't care if my son is happy," she said.

"And if your husband isn't happy?" snapped Draco.

"I don't care about that either," she snapped.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by the doorbell that rang twice. He jumped to his feet and ran towards the door, pushing Pansy away in the process. "I'll get it," he said, climbing down the stairs of the manor.

Pansy looked at him with her eyebrows raised and her hands on her hips. "What did you buy a house-elf for?" she asked after him. He mumbled something in response, but he was too far away from her. Then the door opened and Pansy heard someone talking. She stepped towards the stairs and climbed down them slowly. In the entrance hall, she spotted the tall shape of Blaise Zabini.

"Hi, Blaise," said Pansy from the last stair.

Blaise turned to face her and smiled. "Hi, Pansy. You look wonderful. See, I came here to discuss Shrunken Heads with Draco," he said quickly, walking towards her and kissing her on both cheeks.

Pansy looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Really? That's funny, because Draco was looking for the same thing in a book this morning," she said, "but he ended up at a page of a tome with an abortion potion on it."

Blaise looked at Draco as if he was waiting for him to give him directions. He wasn't sure if he had to sound surprised, amused or bemused. Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise and I have lots of things to do, Pansy," he said harshly. "Serve us lunch in my office," he said haughtily, walking past his wife and heading for upstairs.

Pansy glared at him dangerously. "I warn you, Draco Malfoy, harm my grandson in any way and I'll ensure you get sent to Azkaban."

Draco turned to face Blaise, who looked at him with his mouth wide open, and shook his head. He opened the door of his office and entered, followed by Blaise.

"She is out of her mind," started Draco, sitting down at his desk. "I can't understand why she is so keen on becoming a grandmother."

"Well, a baby is a baby and she is a woman," said Blaise, shrugging.

Draco glared at him. "He won't be a normal baby, he'll be a Malfoy with Weasley blood in his veins," he pointed out.

"How deplorable," stated Blaise. "But you are lucky in your misfortune. At least the Weasleys are purebloods."

"The mother of that Weasley girl is Hermione "Mudblood" Granger," cried out Draco.

Blaise looked horrified, Draco nodded. "She is a Gryffindor," he said as if it was something dreadful.

Blaise shrugged. "Well, she is a Weasley. Weasleys has always been in Gryffindor."

"No!" cried out Draco, placing a parchment on the desk under Blaise's nose. "Look, there's a Weasley which is actually in Ravenclaw," he said, indicating the name of Leonard Weasley on a long list of names.

Blaise looked at it with his eyebrows raised. "What is this?" he asked.

"A list of students at Hogwarts and of all their families," answered Draco nonchalantly.

"And you have it because?"

"Because I want to know how to make sure that girl gets the abortion potion. I want to know who is good and who's not in that school."

"And by good you mean?"

"Faithful to the purebloods," stated Draco.

"I see, well, you know, maybe you are a little bit too eager with this idea of purebloods and half-bloods and Mudbloods. I mean, there aren't lots of Purebloods whose blood is really pure anymore," Blaise said simply.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You speak just like Pansy; you can go downstairs and have tea with her, if you want," he said grumpily.

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Does she have lemon cake?" he asked seriously.

"What day is it today?"

"Monday."

"No," said Draco. "There are chocolate cookies on Monday."

"No, thanks, then. Can I stay here with you?"

Draco nodded. "Now, back to important business. Did you write to your daughter?"

Blaise nodded. "I wrote her last week."

"And what did you tell her?"

Blaise snorted. "I wrote her to try her best to prepare the potion that you gave me."

"What potion?" asked Draco, looking at him intently.

"The abortion potion you gave me last week," said Blaise, annoyed.

"I didn't give you any potion last week," stated Draco.

"You gave me that damn abortion potion, Draco," Blaise cried out.

"I didn't," snapped Draco, "because the potion you are talking about is still in this book."

Draco showed the book to Blaise, who rubbed his temples and narrowed his eyes. "What did I send her then?"

"You sent her the piece of parchment that I gave you, right?" asked Draco, feeling his anger rising.

"I guess I did, why? What was that?"

"A recipe for pancakes," cried out Draco.

"Oh, I thought it was something important," said Blaise, waving a hand in front of him.

"It is; it's an old recipe from Pansy's family!"

"Then why did you give it to me?" asked Blaise defensively.

"Because you had to give it to Millicent," said Draco, exasperated, ripping the page from the book. "Make her send the recipe back and send her this," he added, shoving the abortion potion recipe under Blaise's nose.

The other man shrugged. "Okay, but you have to pay more attention," he said.

Draco turned away from him, cursing under his breath.

"So what should I write her?" asked Blaise.

"Just that her father is as stupid as Goyle," said Draco hastily. "Tell her that you have sent her the wrong thing, and she should send it back. Then send her the right potion and tell her to make it - it's not difficult - and the victim – I mean the patient – must drink it no later than an hour after the potion has been created. It takes a month to be brewed. I think that she should slip it into Weasley's pumpkin juice at breakfast or something like that," stated Draco.

"Okay, I took note of everything. Now, you called me for what, exactly?" asked Blaise, rather bored.

"Blaise, I asked you here because I wanted to give you the potion," said Draco, trying to stay calm.

Blaise nodded. "You know, I was thinking that you could have sent the potion to Sybella yourself."

"No, I don't want to send my owl to her. Emeric would recognize it and he would think that I'm up to something."

"He would be right, wouldn't he?"

"Yes, but he doesn't have to know. I want it to be a surprise," said Draco, smirking.

"Oh, yes. I can see the happiness in his eyes when he'll find out the wonderful surprise you'll give him. Killing his son," muttered Blaise.

Draco looked at him for a moment. "If you say it that way, it doesn't sound so good, but I'm not killing anybody. Actually, the baby has not yet been born. You can't kill someone that is not born," said Draco venomously.

"Someone that should be born, but will never be born. What do you call that, if not killing?" asked Blaise simply.

Draco frowned. He felt uneasy about where the conversation with Blaise was going. What was wrong with everybody? Didn't they see that he was doing this for his son's sake? "Nobody will notice if a child will never be born. And everybody will thank me for saving them the disturbance of taking care of a little annoying creature like a baby," he hissed.

"That's why Pansy was screaming at you?"

"Pansy is a fool. And that Mudblood Granger is just like her. They are all so excited to become grandmothers. How stupid women can be," said Draco, laughing.

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "What about Emeric?"

"What about him?" asked Draco sharply.

"Will he be thankful to you, or will he hate you with all his might?"

"Since when are you so interested in what my son thinks about me?" asked Draco suspiciously.

Blaise shrugged. "I just want to be sure that you know what you're going to do."

"I'm sure," muttered Draco.

"Even if Emeric will hate you after what you've done?"

"He can't hate me, I'm his father. Blood of his blood. Flesh of his flesh," stated Draco.

"You hate your grandson. Blood of your blood. Flesh of your flesh."

Draco glared at him. "Stop it. I don't have a grandson. I can't hate someone that has not yet been born," he hissed. "Now get out of my house. And if you don't want to help me, I'll take care of everything by myself," he said, taking back the page of the book that he had just handed to Blaise. But Blaise took it from Draco's hands very calmly and placed it in his pocket.

"No, it's fine. I'll help you," he said, smiling. "After all, we are talking of saving your honour, no matter at what cost."

Draco nodded stiffly, feeling incredibly uneasy at Blaise's words. "Right," he said hoarsely.

Blaise nodded. "I'll pick up some chocolate cookies anyway, if you don't mind," he said, walking towards the door of the office and smiling to Draco.

Draco nodded. "Okay, let me know how my plan works," he said, sitting back at his desk.

"Sure," said Blaise, closing the door behind himself.

Draco listened to his footsteps in the corridor and then down the stairs; he heard his voice as he greeted Pansy, and then Draco heard the door closing behind Blaise.

Draco sat there, staring at the wall in front of him and thinking. His son would never hate him, would he? No, on the contrary, he would be very grateful to him. He wouldn't have permitted his son to be born, so what was the matter? He could have other children. Later. When he would be an adult. When he would be out of Hogwarts. When he would find a pureblood witch.

No. Nobody would be mad at him. Then why, after that short talk with Blaise, did he feel a painful grip around his heart every time he thought about harming that baby?


	8. A Surprise Visitor

Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but as you see this is the second chapter I upload in less than 24 hours, I've sent mails to all my beta-readers, poking them a little since it was quite a while that I didn't hear from them (and I have five of them). So, hopefully, I'll upload other chapters soon. Anyway, for now enjoy this one.

To Halo of Darkness: LOL. Thanks a lot for correcting this chapter and for your interesting comment.

**A Surprise Visitor**

Ginny walked out of the fireplace and shook away some powder from her clothes. She looked at Hermione and smiled warmly. "Hi, Hermione," she greeted, stepping towards her.

Hermione looked up from the papers that lay on her kitchen table and smiled back at her sister-in-law. "Hi, Ginny," she answered weakly.

"Where is my brother?" she asked hastily.

Hermione eyebrows arched as she looked at her. "I-I don't think that he wants to see you. Actually, I don't think that he wants to see anybody," said Hermione uneasily.

"I don't care," said Ginny stubbornly.

"Ginny, he isn't in a good mood today," whispered Hermione, looking at the door of the kitchen as if she expected Ron to enter at that very moment and catch them talking about him.

"He is never in a good mood. I sent him tons of letters, did he receive them?"

Hermione nodded.

"He didn't answer," snapped Ginny.

"I know."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I also sent him a Howler last time," she said.

Hermione nodded again. "I know. I heard it."

"How long has this been going on?" asked Ginny, sitting heavily on the chair next to Hermione.

"Three weeks. Since the day that McGonagall summoned us into her office and told us about the baby," sighed Hermione.

"Three weeks? Hermione, how can you stand him while he's going around like a zombie, snorting and glaring all the day?" asked Ginny admirably. "At least, that's what Harry told me he was doing."

Hermione smiled weakly. "I don't know. Maybe the fact that I love him helps."

Ginny looked at her. "Maybe, but if Harry would ever act like that he would sleep on the couch for the rest of his life."

"He already sleeps on the couch, but for his own choice," she said slowly.

"Well, then you should make him sleep in the garden," cried out Ginny.

"I'll think about that," she said thoughtfully.

"I want to talk to him," said Ginny suddenly.

"It won't be of any use," answered Hermione, shaking her head. "He is not listening to anybody. It's three weeks that he doesn't speak to me, and when I talk to him he leaves the room."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I've changed my mind. I want to kill him."

Hermione sighed deeply.

"Is it true that he wants to disown Rachel?" asked Ginny.

Hermione shrugged. "He just mentioned that in McGonagall's office, but he didn't talk about it anymore. Or maybe he did, but not with me," she sighed again. "He never talks to me."

Ginny noticed a tear falling noiselessly down Hermione's cheek, but she wiped it away with a quick gesture of her hand. Hermione looked up at her and smiled awkwardly. "Do you think that it's my fault?" she asked unexpectedly.

Ginny looked at her taken aback. "How did you come up with this thing?"

"Because he looks at me with such a loath, like I was the worst thing that happened to his life," whispered Hermione.

"You are the best thing that happened to his life," stated Ginny seriously, taking Hermione's hand in hers. "Believe me, he should end up with Dolores Umbridge for how he's acting towards you."

Hermione laughed softly.

"It's not your fault. And it's not Rachel fault as well," she said convincingly. "It just happened."

"Oh, of course. Let's say that it's nobody's fault and that a baby is a blessing," hissed a voice from the door of the kitchen.

Ginny jerked her head towards Ron so quickly that she heard a loud crack coming from her neck. "You!" she cried, standing up and hearing Hermione's chair moving while she sat up as well. "How can you be so stupid?"

Ron raised his eyebrows and entered the kitchen, he walked past his sister without even looking at her and picked up a box of Chocolate Frogs, then he headed once again for the door.

"Don't you dare walking away without even answering," cried Ginny, turning quickly red for the anger.

Ron rolled his eyes. "What do you want to know?"

"How-can-you-be-so-stupid," she said, stressing every single word and glaring at Ron.

"I don't know, maybe it's a family gift," he snapped.

Ginny placed her hands on her hips, if a glance could kill, Ron would have already been dead. She looked extremely like Mrs. Weasley, and, Hermione was pleased to note, she made almost the same effect on Ron, who gulped softly. "I don't know why you are dragging around with a face like that, a baby is always a good thing," stated Ginny.

"Oh, yes. I guess that you would be the happiest woman on Earth if Allyson was pregnant, right?" he asked sharply.

"I wouldn't have that look upon my face, at least," she said harshly.

Ron looked away from her. "Which look?" he muttered. "It's my look."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "It's like you think that the world has turned its back on you."

"It's exactly like that."

"Stop talking rubbish."

"It's not rubbish, nobody here supports me. Everybody's eyes are on what's happening to Rachel and nobody sees that it's all wrong. She should-" he stopped abruptly because he knew that he would have regretted what he was going to say.

"She should what?" asked Hermione quietly. Ron glanced at her and saw that her eyes were a little bit redder than usual.

He shrugged. "You know what she should do," he muttered.

"Abort," said Ginny, without even trying to hide the anger in her voice. "Is that what you think?"

Ron shrugged another time.

"Do you understand that you are talking about your grandson, right?" screamed Ginny abruptly.

"He is not my grandson. He'll be a Malfoy," protested Ron, raising his voice.

"Half a Malfoy and half a Weasley," Ginny corrected him.

"If he's a Malfoy I don't want him to be a Weasley," snapped Ron.

"Ron, we are no more at school! Grow up!" Ginny snapped back.

Ron growled. "You can speak like that because it's not happening to you. Not at all! Nobody knows how it is to be here and watch your little daughter fall in the net of that Malfoy boy."

"I know," said Hermione shyly. "I know, Ron, we are going through the same thing."

Ron looked at her and rolled his eyes. "Then why you – you that should know how I feel more than anybody else – are doing all your best for standing out against me?"

"I'm doing what?" asked Hermione bewildered.

"You know what you are doing! Always trying to defend Rachel and the Malfoys, always acting like nothing has happened, like we are just a nice happy family," Ron said rudely.

Hermione looked at him with her eyes wide. "We are a nice happy family," she whispered.

"No more," said Ron, shaking his head.

Ginny turned her face towards Hermione. "You are a nice happy family, Hermione. The only _thing_ that spoils everything is Ron," she said sharply.

"The only thing that spoils everything is that baby," shouted Ron. "I was fine when he wasn't even an idea."

"The baby doesn't have any fault. Like Rachel or Emeric," said Hermione forcefully, looking into Ron's eyes.

"No, Hermione, of course they don't," said Ron as if he was talking to a child. "What was that? It just happened, right? Like they didn't know what they were doing," he added angrily.

"I don't think that they were praying for having a child," Ginny pointed out.

"They should have paid more attention, then. Oh, no, what am I saying?" added Ron, opening his eyes wide. "They shouldn't have done anything at all. For God's sake, they are just sixteen."

"Ron, if when you were sixteen the only thing that you did was kissing Lavender, that doesn't mean that everybody is like you," retorted Ginny.

"Bloody hell, Ginny, do you think that what they did it's good?" asked Ron, glaring at his sister.

"No, Ron," snapped Ginny. "I don't think so. I just think that it happened, and you are Rachel's father, if you are not going to stay at her side in a moment like this, who will help her?"

Ron looked at her without understanding, or maybe he was just pretending not to understand because he knew that she was right. "What the hell are you talking about? She is circled by all the people that can't see how wrong the whole thing is."

"You are her father, do you really think that she minds so much about the other people? She'll need you as much as she'll need Hermione," cried Ginny.

For a moment Ron seemed to totter under the weight of Ginny's words, and for a moment his faith in what he was doing with so much determination, avoiding his daughter and all the things that gravitated around her, seemed terribly wrong to him. He pictured Draco Malfoy's smirking face in his head and tried to concentrate on all his hate for him, before speaking again. "She can always go to her father-in-law, if she needs something," he said coolly.

Hermione sat back on the chair and buried her head in her hands. Ron and Ginny heard hushed sobs coming from her, while she tried to fight back the tears. Just for a second Ron felt the urge to sit down next to her and hold her in his arms, but that feeling left him as soon as Ginny started to scream at him that he was a horrible man.

"Have you finished?" he asked her, glaring.

"No," snapped Ginny. "What's the problem with you?"

"I have no problems. You are the one that came in my house and screamed at me," he said defensibly.

"I'm screaming at you because you deserve that," she said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks a lot," he muttered darkly. "Very mature you are."

"Don't you dare saying something like that, Ron. I'm always more mature than you are," she said fuming. "And by the way, I'm not the one that make everybody feels horrible with my behaviour."

"I'm not doing anything like this," snapped Ron.

"Then, why Hermione thinks that it's all her fault?" yelled Ginny.

Hermione looked at Ginny with her eyes wide. "No, Ginny, it's all right, really," she said weakly.

Ron glanced at Hermione with a shocked expression. "It's not your fault," he muttered unexpectedly. "It's not your fault," he repeated after a while.

Hermione gazed at him hopefully, but he looked away quickly and turned his head for leaving the kitchen.

"Wait," Ginny called after him.

"What?" Ron asked, without turning his head.

"Mum told me to invite you and Hermione for lunch this Sunday," she said.

"I'm not coming," said Ron.

"You don't have to tell me," muttered Ginny maliciously. "You'll have to owl mum."

Ron sighed. "Why does she keep inviting us?"

"Because it's more than three weeks that you don't show up at the Burrow," said Ginny matter-of-factly.

"I'm not in the mood to go there," he answered simply.

"Owl mum and tell her, then," said Ginny. "But don't expect anything more than a Howler as an answer."

Ron shrugged and exited the kitchen.

"You shouldn't have been so harsh with him, Ginny," said Hermione.

"And you shouldn't be so nice with him," Ginny reproached her.

Hermione sighed. "I've already tried to scream at him, to sulk, to cry, but he ignored me; so I've decided to be nice."

"Well, it doesn't work," said Ginny simply. "He is so stubborn. But, oh Hermione, you really have to make him come to the Burrow on Sunday," she added, lowering her voice. "Mum has decided to invite Rachel and her boyfriend too."

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "What?" she murmured.

"Yep, but you don't have to tell Ron, it'll be a surprise," said Ginny, grinning.

"Ginny, I don't think it's a good idea, last time Ron saw Emeric, he was going to kill him," Hermione said.

"He won't dare doing something like that in front of mum," said Ginny eagerly. "But it's better if you don't tell him that they are coming."

"No, obviously not," answered Hermione matter-of-factly. "But are you sure that they are coming?"

Ginny shrugged. "Mum was going to sent Rachel an owl today, I don't know if she has already answered though."

Hermione nodded. "But, can they go out of Hogwarts during the term? I mean, I can't remember any of us did something like that while we were at school."

"Don't be silly Hermione," said Ginny, smiling. "The Patil twins were brought away from school during the school year, and Ron, Fred, George and I left when our father was in St. Mungo's."

"Yes, but that were serious things," Hermione pointed out.

"Also this one is serious," stated Ginny. "I'm sure that Professor McGonagall will be happy to send them in a familiar place."

Hermione nodded. "D-did your mum invite also the Malfoys?" she asked unsure.

Ginny looked at her and frowned. "No, absolutely not. Sorry but she is not yet ready to host a party for Death Eaters."

Hermione chocked. "Death Eaters?" she asked hoarsely.

"I'm just joking, but she didn't mentioned about having them for lunch. Maybe she is planning to invite them for Christmas," she said thoughtfully.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, you know how my mum is," she said matter-of-factly. "Oh, well," she added, checking her watch, "better if I move. I'll start my swift at St. Mungo's in half an hour. See you on Sunday, Hermione."

Ginny kissed her on both cheeks and headed for the fireplace, in a couple of seconds she was gone between green flames, leaving Hermione staring at her chimney.


	9. An Invitation

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns what you recognize.

A/N: Hey, I'm leaving for Venice in a couple of hours, but before I go, here you are with a new chapter! Hope you'll like it. Not much to say, except, thanks to all the people that reviewed… Love you all!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for your beta-reading work. Loved it.

**An Invitation**

Rachel turned a slight green colour when she opened a letter from her grandmother that had just landed on the Gryffindor table in front of her breakfast.

"Hey, Rachel is everything all right?" asked Allyson, elbowing her gently.

Rachel looked at her and handed her the letter.

"Great! Grandma Molly is inviting you and Emeric for lunch this Sunday," she said happily. "You are going, right?"

Rachel looked at her and frowned. "I don't know," she said slowly.

"You don't know? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that I feel so protected here in Hogwarts," she said, rubbing her shoulders.

Allyson raised an eyebrow. "Well, you can't live here forever. What are you afraid of?"

Rachel shrugged. "My dad?"

"Do you think that Grandma invited him as well?"

Rachel nodded. "That's exactly what I think."

"Oh, well, yeah. What's the problem? He would never touch you or Emeric if Grandma Molly is there," said Allyson, smiling.

"Yeah, well, I don't think that Emeric will want to go there anyway," Rachel said thoughtfully.

"Who cares? Go by yourself, then," Allyson said. "You are always together. You can do something alone. You don't need him to be always around you."

Rachel looked at her and raised her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" asked Allyson in disbelief. "I'm talking about you and Emeric Malfoy, who are always together."

"That's not true," protested Rachel. "I spend more time with him because – oh, my gosh – Allyson, we are going to have a child, shouldn't that be enough?"

"Oh, yes, you should spend some time together, but you shouldn't pass all the day as if you're stuck together with glue," snapped Allyson. "I mean, I asked you to help me with my Transfiguration essay two days ago. Have I seen you? No, I haven't!"

"Oh! So it's only for that that you want me to spend time with you, just to help you with your homework," said Rachel slowly.

"No," denied Allyson, blushing.

"Yet you just said that," Rachel pointed out.

"No, it was just an example," protested Allyson.

Rachel shrugged. "Find another example, then."

Allyson looked at her plate and pushed some of her bacon around with her fork, trying to find another reason besides homework for which she needed her cousin.

"Well?" asked Rachel haughtily.

"I have to think, okay?" Allyson snapped.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Never mind and listen: if Emeric doesn't want to come to the Burrow, I won't go there as well. The whole thing sounds quite a lot like 'let's put Rachel in the middle', and I don't like it."

"Let's put you where?" asked Allyson, raising her eyebrows.

"In the middle, between my dad and Emeric. I don't want to be between them," said Rachel matter-of-factly.

"What you are saying is totally nonsense, you know that, don't you?" asked Allyson.

"Why?"

"Because you said that you would go at the Burrow only if Emeric comes with you, but at the same time, you don't want to stay in the middle between him and your dad. But if you go without Emeric, you won't be in the middle, right?" she tried to explain to her cousin.

Rachel seemed taken aback from her cousin's reasoning. It actually made sense and for the first time, it made more sense than her own reasoning. "Well, I simply don't want Grandma Molly to think that Emeric is impolite. So if we won't go, I'll make up some excuse for us both, like homework or a check-up in the Hospital Wing."

Allyson snorted. "Okay, do whatever you want," she snapped, standing up and walking towards the door of the Great Hall.

"Thanks a lot," Rachel called after her.

"Thanks a lot for what?" asked Malcolm shyly as he sat down next to his sister.

"Mind your own business, you," retorted Rachel, also standing up, but walking over to the Slytherin table.

"Okay. Sorry, Rachel, I didn't mean to be unkind toward you," he said hastily to his sister while he tried to shove all the spoons from the table into his pockets.

However, Rachel wasn't even listening to him. She was already approaching the Slytherin table and calling for Emeric. "Can I talk to you?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

"Of course," he said standing up. They felt the Slytherins' eyes on them for a moment. Rachel glared at them all. "What?" she snapped rudely. They all shook their heads in fear and looked down at their plates. The fact that Malcolm walked into the Hospital Wing with a spoon shoved up his nose a couple of weeks before was still a vivid memory in everybody's head.

Emeric followed her out of the Great Hall and into the first empty classroom that they found.

"This morning, my grandma sent this to me," she said suddenly when the door closed behind them.

Emeric took the letter from her hands and read it. "Well, your grandma is very nice," he said truthfully.

Rachel nodded. "So?"

"So what?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Go and meet her, of course," he said matter-of-factly.

Rachel looked at him intently and for a moment, she had doubts about whether or not the person standing in front of her was the real Emeric Malfoy. "Are you sure?"

"Naturally, she was so nice to invite us for lunch that I would be terribly rude to decline her invitation," he said, smiling.

"Maybe my father will be there as well," she said hastily.

Emeric's eyes widened and he instinctively brought his hands to his neck. "Really?" he asked hoarsely.

"I guess so. Grandma didn't say that in her letter, but I'm sure that she has invited him and Mum as well," she said.

"Well, it's fine with me," Emeric said bravely. "We can talk."

"Talk?" asked Rachel, opening her eyes wide. "Talk? Last time you two talked, he was going to strangle you," she pointed out.

"He wasn't doing that on purpose, right?"

"Right," she sighed.

"Okay, then, I can't wait to meet your grandma," he said eagerly.

She looked at him and frowned. "Are you sure that you are all right?"

"Yep, shouldn't I be? Life is wonderful," he said, leaning down and kissing her softly on the lips.

She pushed him back slowly. "Just because my grandma invited us for lunch on Sunday?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

Emeric smiled. "Because of that and because of another thing," he said cryptically.

"What are you talking about?"

He kissed her again and smiled against her lips. "That stupid Sybella," he muttered.

"What?" she asked, pushing him back once more.

He smiled again. "I saw her this morning and guess what? She was climbing the stairs of the Owlery because she had to send back to her father what he had just sent her a couple of weeks ago," he said cheerfully.

"And that makes you so happy because you want her to keep in touch with her father?" asked Rachel sarcastically.

"No, you little silly Gryffindor," he said in a quite unusual sugary tone. "She was sending back the thing that her father told her to use against us."

Rachel seemed to realize what he was talking about at once. "Really?" she asked, smiling too.

"Yep, and she was very angry. What a delightful sight," he said.

"Yeah, well, but maybe it's not a good sign," she said, after a while.

"What are you talking about? She gave up her all her plans against us," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but what if her father sent her the wrong thing and now he is going to send her the right one?" she said as her smile faded away.

His face dropped, as well. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, it was just an idea," she muttered. "Maybe he made a mistake and now he is going to send her the right thing."

"That's quite impossible. What should he have sent her? A pancake recipe?" he asked, amused.

She smiled. "Who knows?"

He kissed her for the third time and this time, she didn't push him away. Unluckily, their sweet moment was spoiled when they heard steps outside the door as it burst open.

"What are you doing here?" yelled the shrill voice of Professor Flitwick. "Oh, Weasley, Malfoy, it's just you. I think I'm a couple of months late if I wanted to prevent something," he said, grinning.

Rachel blushed so deeply that her hair seemed almost pale in contrast, while Emeric turned a nasty green colour. "S-sorry, Professor," they muttered before leaving the classroom quickly. They heard Flitwick chuckling as he climbed up the pile of books on the desk.

"Where are you going? We have Potions and the dungeons are this way," said Emeric, dragging her towards the dungeons.

"I know," said Rachel, stopping. "But I want to go to see Professor McGonagall first."

"And you are risking being late for your class just because you have to talk to McGonagall," he asked in disbelief. "Hormones must be really strong."

"If you don't want to see how strong they are, you better stop joking," she said seriously. "I want to see the Headmistress because I want to ask her if the students can go out of school during the term."

"What are you talking about? Of course we can. We have Hogsmeade trips on the weekends," he said as she guided him towards the Transfiguration classroom.

"We need signed permissions to go to Hogsmeade and the Burrow isn't exactly next to Hogwarts," she pointed out as she pushed open the door of McGonagall's classroom.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," said Rachel while entering the class that was halfway full of second year Ravenclaws and Slytherins.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be in Professor Slughorn's classroom in less than five minutes? Is everything all right?" asked Professor McGonagall, raising her head and looking at them.

"I need an anwer, Professor McGonagall," said Rachel seriously. "Can two students, such as us, spend a Sunday at home instead of here at Hogwarts?"

Professor McGonagall looked at her, raising her eyebrows. "What do you mean, Miss Weasley?"

"The fact is that my grandma has invited us for lunch this Sunday, but I don't know if-"

"Of course you can," Professor McGonagall interrupted, smiling. "If Molly Weasley has invited you, you must go. That's a great chance for you to reconcile with your parents."

Rachel nodded. "Well, yeah, I guess so, Professor," she said slowly.

"You should go now. I have a class to teach and you have one with Professor Slughorn, if I'm not mistaken," she said firmly.

"Yes, Professor, thank you," said Rachel as Emeric bid the Headmistress goodbye as well and headed for the door.

"See? There's nothing wrong with us going to – what did you call it?"

"The Burrow, Emeric," she sighed.

"Nice name," he said, smiling. "So, I guess we should go there in the morning. What will we use?"

Rachel looked at him with her mouth gaping open. "Since when are you so keen to meet my family? You are always so careful to avoid all my brothers and cousins here."

"I was just thinking that if I'm really going to become part of your family, I must know them all," he said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well, they are quite a lot, you know that?"

Emeric nodded.

"And should I know your relatives as well?" she asked slowly.

"I guess so, but don't worry they are very few. Actually, you almost met everybody," he said, smiling.

"What about your grandparents? Don't you have cousins?" she asked.

"Cousins? No, not at all. And about my grandparents, well, my mother's parents are alive, but I don't see them very often. The father of my father is dead, while the mother of my father lives quite close to the Malfoy Manor. She is the only relative besides my parents that I see regularly," Emeric explained.

"Well, so I don't have to make a big effort after all," she answered, grinning.

"No. Not like me, at least," he answered just as they approached the Potions classroom.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, may I know the reason of your delay?" inquired Slughorn, looking at them as they opened the door of the classroom.

"Sorry, Professor, but we had to talk to Professor McGonagall," said Rachel.

"Well, since you can see her whenever you want, that's not an excuse," stated Professor Slughorn.

"Sorry," said Rachel sheepishly.

"Oh, never mind that, it must have been something important," he said, smiling and walking towards the blackboard. "Today we are going to prepare some Felix Felicis. Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, take your seats and open your books at page 349."

They worked heavily for more than one hour and at the end, Rachel was the one whose potion was most similar to the picture in her book.

"Does everyone see Miss Weasley's cauldron?" Slughorn asked his pupils. "Her potion is the one that most resembles the finished Felix Felicis."

Lots of students nodded, yet as many snorted.

"Class dismissed. For the next lesson, I want a two-foot-long essay on the potion that we have just brewed," said Slughorn, walking lazily towards his desk.

The students got up and started to pack their things.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, I want a word with you," he requested firmly.

Emeric and Rachel looked at each other and slowly walked towards him.

"Good job, Miss Weasley. Mr. Malfoy, your potion wasn't exactly like Miss Weasley's, but it was one of the best I saw in this classroom. By the way, I wanted to remember you that in a couple of weeks, there will be a party in my office and you are invited," he said, smiling. "And I wanted to know if you wanted something in particular to eat."

"Well, I would do with some roast beef," said Emeric eagerly.

Slughorn laughed heartily. "Not you, silly boy, I mean Miss Weasley. I wanted to know if she has any particular desires."

Rachel blushed again. "No, thanks, Professor Slughorn, I-I think I'm fine," she stammered shyly.

"Are you sure? I can order anything for you," he coaxed, stroking his moustache.

"No, Professor, I'm fine, really," she said, smiling at all the attention.

"Well, you can go, then, and enjoy your week," he dismissed, walking towards the cauldrons with samples of the potions and starting to clean up all the cauldrons.

They said goodbye to him and walked out of the classroom.

"Slughorn is nice, isn't he?" asked Rachel.

Emeric nodded. "But you should have asked for the roast beef," he muttered to her, rather darkly.

Rachel sighed heavily. "I'll ask him for some roast beef if you really want it. See you later?"

"See you at lunch," he responded, kissing her on her forehead and walking towards the Slytherin common room, while Rachel stepped in the direction of the Ancient Runes classroom.

Both of them were unaware that somebody was following them with her gaze, smirking while chewing on a piece of pancake.


	10. Lunch at the Burrow

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and never will.

A/N: So, it's been a while… I know and I'm sorry. For excusing myself I'll upload a lot of chapters in the next few days, so be ready for them. I really hope that you'll like this chappie though, it's nothing of special, but I like it. Enjoy it!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapters and the others, too.

**Lunch at the Burrow**

Rachel stood nervously in front of the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office. She had some Floo powder in her hand and was staring at the ashes inside the chimney. She was thinking that it was a bad idea to go to the Burrow. A very bad idea. A deep sigh from someone behind her snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Rachel, do you want to stay here all day? We'll be late," said Emeric impatiently.

"He is right, Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall, who had been very helpful when she permitted her students to link her chimney to the Floo Network. "Your grandma will already be wondering where you are."

Rachel took a hesitant step towards the fireplace, and turned abruptly. "Professor McGonagall, are you sure that it's all right if I use the Floo Network? I don't want to harm my baby in any way," she said apprehensively.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "We have already discuss this, Miss Weasley. There are no warnings for pregnant women."

Rachel nodded, but looked still unconvinced. "Yes, but what if-"

The Headmistress never found out what other excuse Rachel had came up with, because Emeric seized her arm and dragged her into the fireplace. "Ready?" he asked her quite rudely.

She tried to protest, "No, I-" but she was cut off another time when Emeric said, "Fine, then – The Burrow!" and they both disappeared between green flames.

Rachel stepped out of the chimney in her grandparents' house and coughed out some ashes. "I was – cough – not yet – cough – ready!" she snapped at him.

He exited the fireplace right behind her, shaking away ashes from his clothes. "If it was up to you, you wouldn't have been ready in the next ten years," he said simply.

They both looked around in the living room of the Burrow and spotted a woman who was staring at them while a smile spread widely across her face. "Rachel! Mum, they arrived," Ginny said to the kitchen door and walking towards them to greet them. They heard some noises and an old woman entered the living room, drying her hands in an apron and smiling warmly at them.

"Oh, Rachel! It's been a long time since you last visited your grandparents," said Molly Weasley, hugging her granddaughter.

"I was at school, Grandma," Rachel reminded her sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," she said distractedly, turning her attention to Emeric. "And you must be Emeric, right? Emeric Malfoy?"

Emeric smiled and nodded. "That's me," he said, stretching out a hand.

"Oh," said Molly amused, pushing away his hand and hugging him. "You are part of the family now, aren't you?"

"I guess so," he said uneasily while Molly hugged him tighter.

"I can call you Emeric, right?" she asked when she released him. "And I would be pleased if you can call me Grandma, if you want," she added, scanning Emeric's face to capture any feelings that might have surfaced.

Emeric nodded mechanically. "Of course – hem – Grandma," he said stiffly.

Molly smiled brightly. "Well, now that I've met you, I have to go back to the kitchen. Ginny dear, call everybody. Lunch will be ready in less than a quarter of an hour."

Rachel turned towards Ginny. "What did she mean, Aunt Ginny?" she asked suspiciously.

"That lunch is almost ready," answered Ginny cheerfully.

"You know what I mean. Everybody who?" she questioned as she sat down on the couch.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "There are not many people, don't you worry. It's just me, your grandparents, and Uncle Harry."

"What about mum and dad?" she asked, trying to sound casual, while Emeric sat down next to her.

Ginny placed a tray full of Butterbeers on the table of the living room and walked towards the stairs. "Dad! Harry! Lunch is almost ready – and our guests have just arrived."

"Aunt Ginny," Rachel called impatiently.

"Your dad was busy, you know Ministry business. And your mum will likely drop by after lunch," replied Ginny, sitting gracefully on an armchair next to Emeric.

"Ministry business?" asked Rachel skeptically. "Just say that he didn't want to come."

Ginny smiled awkwardly. "Oh, Harry! Look who's here," said Ginny, nodding towards Rachel and Emeric.

"Uncle Harry!" exclaimed Rachel, sitting up and walking towards him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he said, hugging his niece. "But what about you?" he asked, looking at her stomach.

"I'm fine, too," she said. "Grandpa!" She hugged Arthur Weasley, who had just entered the living room behind Harry.

"Hi, Rachel," said Arthur, stamping a big kiss on each of her cheeks. "How is my little granddaughter doing?"

"Fine, Grandpa," she said, smiling and coming back to her seat next to Emeric. "Uncle, Grandpa, this is Emeric."

Both Harry and Arthur looked at Emeric, who felt as though the weight of their gazes was terribly heavy. "Hem, good morning," he said awkwardly, while his eyes went from Harry to Arthur Weasley.

"Well, so, this is the young Malfoy," said Arthur, sitting down on an armchair between Rachel and Harry and taking a Butterbeer. "You look vaguely like your grandfather."

Emeric nodded slightly.

"So what classes are you taking, Emeric?" asked Ginny, passing him a Butterbeer.

Emeric took it and thanked Ginny. "Well, I'm taking Potions, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfig-"

"Are you planning to become an Auror?" Harry interrupted

Emeric blushed slightly. "That would be nice," he said slowly.

Harry looked at him intently, then laughed. "Oh well, I thought I would have never seen the day that a Malfoy expressed the desire to become an Auror," he said, smiling. "You know that Aurors fight bad wizards, don't you?"

Rachel frowned at her uncle and glanced at Aunt Ginny.

"Even Rachel here wants to become an Auror," said Ginny calmly. "Isn't that lovely?"

Harry nodded. "So, Emeric, is Rachel the one that made you decide to become an Auror?"

"No, sir," Emeric answered politely.

"Then what-"

"I think that it's the same as what pushed you to become an Auror, Uncle Harry," snapped Rachel.

"What? A blood-thirsty wizard?" joked Harry, smiling.

"No," answered Emeric politely. "Just the fact that I want to do something important, something that will let me help other people."

Harry stared at him for a long moment before Molly entered the living room and said, "Lunch is ready!"

They all moved towards the kitchen.

"Emeric, sit down next to me, will you?" asked Molly, patting a chair next to the one she was sitting on. Rachel sat down on Emeric's other side. Ginny, Harry, and Arthur sat down in front of them.

"Do you want some potatoes dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley sweetly.

"Yes, please," he answered as Mrs. Weasley filled his plate.

"Mum, did you know that Emeric wants to become an Auror?" Ginny asked nonchalantly while she helped herself to some meat pie.

"Really? Oh that's wonderful. Harry and Ron are Aurors as well. They could talk with you about their job," said Molly eagerly.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, of course, ask me whatever you want."

"Well, I still have a couple of years at school before I will actually start working," Emeric said slowly.

"But you have to think about your future, especially now that there's already a baby on the way," exclaimed Molly.

Rachel blushed slightly. "Well, we want to finish our schooling first," she said, looking at her grandmother.

"Of course dear, but a child is always a cost. You'll have to find someone to take care of him," replied Molly matter-of-factly.

"Maybe your parents could help you, Emeric. The Malfoys are pretty rich, aren't they, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"Yes, they are," he agreed with his wife.

Emeric blushed. "Well, my parents aren't poor, but I doubt that they'll ever help us," he said.

"Why?" asked Arthur.

"Pretty much for the same reason as for why my parents didn't come here today," answered Rachel.

"Yeah, well, my father wasn't very happy about the whole thing," muttered Emeric.

"Exactly like Ron," said Ginny, sighing. "Those two have lots of things in common, that's why they can't understand each other."

"Yeah, that and the fact that Draco Malfoy used to call Hermione a Mudblood," said Harry calmly.

"Harry!" shrieked Ginny. "Don't use that word and don't be impolite."

"I'm not impolite, Ginny. I'm telling the truth," answered Harry simply.

"Well, there's no need to point that out now," Ginny admonished. "Some more bread, dad?" she asked, passing the breadbasket to Mr. Weasley, who accepted, thanking his daughter.

"I know that my father is not a nice person sometimes, but my mother has always told me that he is better than my grandfather," said Emeric.

"At least he isn't a Death Eater," stated Harry, smiling.

Emeric nodded. "He despises the Death Eaters."

"Rachel, dear, I've not yet understood what month you are in," said Mr. Weasley, trying to change the subject of conversation.

"More than two months now," she said.

"Oh and I guess that there's still some time before you know the gender, right?"

Rachel nodded. "Madam Pomfrey told me that in January--February, at the latest--we'll know the gender," she said brightly.

"Have you thought of any names yet?" asked Ginny, smiling.

Rachel and Emeric looked at each other. "No," said Rachel. "But I like the name Elizabeth," she muttered.

"And if he's a boy?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know," she answered.

"What about Samuel?" asked Emeric.

"It's nice," said Rachel calmly.

"What would you prefer, Rachel? A daughter or a son?" asked Ginny.

Rachel was pleased to see that finally somebody was turning her attention towards her. "I don't know, Aunt Ginny. I think it's pretty much the same. Girls are nice, but I don't really care, as long as he – or she – will be healthy."

"You are right, Rachel," said Ginny, smiling again. "What about you, Emeric?"

Emeric had to fight for a moment with the urge to say that he wanted a boy. "It's the same for me, too," he said in a high pitched voice.

"He wants a boy, obviously," said Rachel haughtily. "What will you do if we'll have a girl?"

Emeric looked at her, knowing that the hormones were having their way in her again. "I-I said that it doesn't matter," he stammered.

"Your face was saying quite the contrary," she hissed.

"No, Rachel, it's true, either would be great for me," he said hastily.

Rachel's eyes filled with tears. "Don't lie to me!"

"I-I'm not lying," he said, patting her on her back.

"And don't touch me!" she snarled, burying her face in her hands.

He took away his hand quickly and moved his chair a little bit closer to Mr. Weasley's. Then he looked at the other people sitting at the table and mouthed the word 'hormones', making sure that no sound exited. Everybody nodded in comprehension.

"Rachel, dear, do you want some water?" asked Mrs. Weasley soothingly.

Rachel looked at her grandmother. "Yes, please, Grandma," she said sniffling. Mrs. Weasley made the carafe of the water levitate towards her and pour some water into her glass. Rachel drank as everybody's eyes were on her.

"Are you feeling better, Rachel?" asked Harry.

Rachel glared at him. "Why? I felt better even earlier," she said to her uncle.

"Well, you looked a little bit upset," answered Harry, sensing that he was venturing into bad territory.

"Upset?" she said loudly. "Upset? Why should I be upset? Just because the father of my child is a liar and my parents hate me? Or because my future parents-in-law can't bear to look at me?" she ranted as more tears formed in her eyes.

"No, I mean-" Any effort that Harry was going to make to remedy the situation was cut off by Ginny, who kicked her husband under the table. "Do you want some salad, Rachel dear?" she offered.

Rachel nodded and took some salad. "Thank you, Aunty."

"Sure, darling," answered Ginny. "So, how is Wyatt doing at school?"

Rachel smiled. "He is doing great. He is such a nice boy. He asked me for some help just once. Not like my brothers, who keep on questioning me about everything."

Ginny laughed. "You are very like your mother and they are exactly like Ron," she said.

"Did dad used to ask mum about homework?" asked Rachel, suddenly interested.

"Of course, your dad and your Uncle Harry were always begging her to help them with their homework, but your mum kept on saying that she wasn't doing them a favour if she helped them that way," stated Ginny.

"Hey, things here are getting embarrassing," protested Harry. "Let my little niece believe that her uncle was at the best of his class without the help of her mother."

"The best of your class?" Ginny laughed loudly. "Are you confusing yourself with Percy?"

"No, not at all. I made an Outstanding in my O.W.L.s," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"I thought that my mum earned ten Outstandings out of eleven," pointed out Rachel.

"Yes, yes, your mum was the best. Is that that you wanted to hear?" asked Harry, snorting.

Rachel shrugged. "I made eleven Outstandings out of eleven last year," she answered simply.

"How many Outstandings did you have, Emeric?" asked Mrs. Weasley kindly.

"Ten, but I had only ten subjects last year," he said matter-of-factly.

Harry looked at them with his eyes wide. "Well, okay, I think that we have a couple of geniuses here, don't we?" he asked jokingly.

Ginny nodded, smiling. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off when they all heard a knock on the door. Everybody held their breath while Ginny stood up and walked towards the door.

"Yes?" she asked.

"It's me, Hermione," said a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

Ginny opened the door and smiled widely at her sister-in-law. "Hermione! It's so nice to see you," she said, hugging her.

"Mum!" exclaimed Rachel, sitting up.

Hermione walked towards her daughter and hugged her tightly. "How are you doing, Rachel?" she asked her, caressing her hair.

"Fine, mum, extremely fine," she answered, smiling.

Ginny looked out of the door into the garden. "Ron is not coming?" she asked after a while.

"No," answered Hermione, releasing her daughter. "He said that he had things to do," she added vaguely.

"Better if we don't talk about him right now," said Harry, sitting up and kissing Hermione twice on her cheeks.

"Yeah, better," muttered Hermione, kissing Mrs. and Mr. Weasley. "Emeric, how are you doing?" she asked him.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," he said, sitting up and stretching out his hand towards her.

Hermione took it and shook it, amused. "Well, looks like Molly has prepared her famous meat pie," said Hermione, glancing at the table.

"Oh, Hermione, please serve yourself," said Molly.

"No, thanks, Molly, I've already had lunch with Ron," she answered, sitting down between Harry and Rachel. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No, Hermione, dear," said Molly, smiling. "We were just saying that both these two have top grades in every subject."

"Really?" Hermione looked at Emeric, pleased.

"Yes, Hermione, they are almost better than you," said Harry, teasingly.

Hermione smiled. "I'm happy to hear that," she answered. "But, Rachel, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, mum," she answered cheerfully. "You know, I forgot to tell you this last time that I saw you, but I think that I'll need some new clothes. Something bigger," she added, blushing.

Hermione nodded. "I'll be in Diagon Alley next week, I think that I can manage to find something. What would you like? Skirts? Trousers?"

"Oh, no," she answered hastily. "It would be wonderful if you could find me another school robe. I don't want to draw all the attention towards me." She stopped for a while, thinking. "I mean, of course, all the attention will be on me – or, rather, on my stomach – but if I could go unnoticed as long as possible, that would be great. You know, just acting like everything is normal."

Hermione nodded again. "I'll try to find you a new uniform, something that suits you better in this moment."

"Thanks, mum," she muttered.

"Sure, Rachel. Do you need anything else?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered thoughtfully.

"What about you, Emeric?" asked Hermione unexpectedly.

"W-what about me?" he stammered shyly.

"Do you need something in Diagon Alley?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he answered hastily.

"Very likely he is used to buying his things in Knockturn Alley, Hermione," said Harry, laughing.

Ginny, Hermione, Rachel, and Mrs. Weasley glared at him. Harry's laugh faded away when he noticed that everyone except for Emeric--who were currently looking at his plate--and Mr. Weasley--who was swallowing his potatoes--were glaring at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "So, is there no dessert, Molly?"

Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows and with a wave of her wand, she levitated all the dirty plates into the sink. Mr. Weasley had to seize his own before he flew away. With another movement she Summoned a big bowl of pudding, which landed gracefully in the middle of the table. "Here you are, Harry."

"Thank you, Molly," said Harry hoarsely.

They all served themselves to two helpings of the delicious pudding. Actually, Rachel took it three times, but since she was eating for two, nobody said anything.

"At what time do you have to come back to Hogwarts?" asked Ginny.

"Professor McGonagall said that she would have allowed us to come back at four o'clock," said Emeric. "She would have let us have more time, if Rachel hadn't insisted on coming back so early."

"I have to finish an essay," she protested.

"It's for Friday!" pointed out Emeric.

Rachel shrugged. "I don't want to get behind on my homework."

"You have already studied all the lessons from now to the next year, how can you fall behind on your homework?" asked Emeric.

Rachel glared at him. "I have to use the bathroom," she announced, sitting up and walking hastily towards the door.

Everybody looked at her until she disappeared out of the kitchen. Emeric was quite concerned now that she had left him alone with all her relatives.

Hermione's laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. "Does she behave in this way every day?" she asked Emeric, who didn't understand what was so amusing.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he answered seriously.

"Well, you don't have to pay too much attention to that, Emeric. She is all muddled up by hormones," she stated.

"I know," sighed Emeric. "Madam Pomfrey keeps telling everybody."

Hermione nodded. "Well, since Rachel is not here, I have to ask you about something. And I don't want to scare her," she said, becoming serious.

"Yes?"

"Your mother sent me a letter in which she said that your father is up to something."

Emeric nodded gravely.

"Do you think it's something serious? I mean, I know that your father is not happy about the baby and everything, but do you think that he could manage to harm you, Rachel, or the baby in any way?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"What?" Harry looked at her. "Malfoy is planning against my niece?"

"Pansy is keeping an eye on him, Harry," said Hermione reassuringly.

"Hermione, do you remember that Malfoy tried to kill Dumbledore?"

"Harry, you were the one that said that he didn't have the heart to do that," Hermione pointed out. "You said that he was crying in that bathroom with Moaning Myrtle."

Emeric looked at them with his eyes wide. "Really? He never told me about that," he exclaimed.

"And I don't think that he would be happy to know that we are telling you this," said Ginny gently. "It would be better if you keep it to yourself."

Emeric agreed.

"If you want, we can send someone from the Ministry to Hogwarts to watch over Rachel," proposed Harry.

"No, thanks, Harry. I don't think that a squad of Aurors will be necessary. Just keep an eye on her, Emeric, will you?"

"Of course, I won't let happen anything bad to her or to my son," he said seriously.

Hermione smiled brightly. He was a good boy, after all.

"Well, if Malfoy dares to touch Rachel in any way, I swear that I'll use an Unforgivable Curse on him," said Harry angrily.

"You'll use an Unforgivable Curse on whom, Uncle Harry?" asked Rachel while she crossed the kitchen and sat down in her chair.

"Nobody," he muttered. "Aurors' business."

An awkward silence filled the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley sat up and started to wash the plates as noisily as she could. "Why don't you go into the living room, dears? I'll tidy up the kitchen and be right there," she said, smiling.

Everybody nodded and walked out of the kitchen. They sat down on the couch and on the armchairs and spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the baby. Ginny offered them the Wyatt's cradle, which used to be the Rachel's, and Mrs. Weasley announced that she would be delighted to help with baby-sitting. Harry told Emeric that if his father didn't have any intentions on helping them, he could find him a summer job at the Ministry of Magic. Emeric gulped, not extremely happy to work in the same place of his future father-in-law, but thanked Harry politely.

When the grandfather clock stroke four in the afternoon, they were ready to go.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Emeric," said Molly, hugging him tightly.

"F-for me too," he answered, trying to catch his breath. "Thank you for the lunch, Mrs. Weasley."

"It's Grandma for you," she said, patting his cheek.

"Rachel, do you want me to say something to your father from you?" asked Hermione, hugging her daughter.

Rachel darkened. "Did he have something to tell me?" she asked.

"No, but-"

"Then don't tell him anything," said Rachel haughtily. "Bye, mum," she added, kissing her mum.

Emeric and Rachel bid goodbye to all the people in the room and headed for the fireplace. This time Emeric didn't have to push her into the chimney; she stepped in first and disappeared into the flames. Emeric left the Burrow a second later.

"So, how did your trip go?" asked Professor McGonagall as soon as they reached the fireplace in her office.

"Well," answered Rachel politely.

"Hw about for you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"It was very interesting, Headmistress. Rachel's relatives are really nice," he said courteously.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "I know," she said. "Miss Weasley, your cousin, Miss Potter, kept stopping me and asking if you were back. I think that she wants to be informed about your lunch at your grandparent's house."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall. Good afternoon," answered Rachel respectfully.

"Good afternoon," Emeric echoed after her.

Professor McGonagall nodded and they left.

"See, it wasn't so bad after all," said Emeric cheerfully.

"No," she admitted. "But just because my dad didn't come."

Emeric shrugged. "Maybe you are too harsh towards him."

"Mind your own business, Mr. I'm Writing My Last Will Because I Am Sure That My Father Will Kill Me," she snapped.

Emeric blushed. "Well, I guess that I'll see you later at dinner," he said, hastily changing the subject of conversation.

"I guess so," she answered calmly. Then she stopped and kissed him on his lips before heading towards the Gryffindor common room.

He looked at her disappearing up the stairs of the seventh floor, really hoping that those stupid hormones didn't make the next seven months hell for him.


	11. School Days

Disclaimer: Not mine, nope.

A/N: See? As I promised, another chapter. I hope you'll like it. Not much to say here, sorry, if something funny comes into mind I'll write it in the next Author's Notes.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks for being so supportive and nice, and thanks for pointing always out how wonderful Draco is.

**School Days**

"So," started Professor Slughorn, walking towards his sixth year students. "I'm very, very sorry to tell you that some ingredients from my private stocks have been stolen. Very sorry," he continued, walking slowly between the tables and stroking his moustache. "I'm saying this to all my students, if this will happen again, I'll be sure that your exam at the end of the year will be the hardest you have ever had."

Lots of students gulped. Some of them paled.

"What ingredients have been stolen?" asked a girl from Ravenclaw raising her hand shyly above her head.

"Oh, nothing important, Miss Clark," answered Professor Slughorn. "Just some Mandrake roots and Bundimun secretion. You can't do much with those things. But the problem isn't that, it's that some students dared to steal from my private office."

"O-of course, P-professor," stammered the girl, who had turned a deep shade of red.

"Well, anyway, today we are making Amorentia. Who can tell me what are the proprieties of this potion? Ah, yes, Miss Weasley?"

The lesson proceed normally. Rachel answered all the questions asked by Professor Slughorn, earning a good amount of points that would have lasted until her brother would go to his first lesson of the day. At the end of the two hours, Slughorn reminded the students that were in his Slug Club about the upcoming feast with Oliver Wood and dismissed the class.

"When did he say was his party?" Rachel asked Emeric distractedly as they exited.

"Next Saturday," he said as distracted as her. "Did you hear what he said?"

"About what?" she asked. "He said quite a lot of things."

"Yeah, well, I meant about the ingredients stolen from his office," he answered gravely. "It's nothing good."

"Why do you care so much? There are lots of students that brew potions in secret. My parents did it as well when they were in their second year," she stopped and started to laugh.

Emeric looked at her quizzically. "What's so funny?"

"I've just remembered that they used to brew that potion to shadow your father," she answered, still laughing.

Emeric smiled as well. "My father never told me that," he said.

Rachel shrugged. "I don't think that he knows about the whole thing."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one that he's going to tell him," stated Emeric. "Anyway, I was serious when I said that it's distressing that someone has just stolen those ingredients from Slughorn's office. And, plus, Sybella has just received another letter from her parents this morning," he said seriously.

Rachel sighed. "You are not still thinking that she is plotting against us, are you?"

"Of course I am," he answered darkly. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you or my baby," he added, placing a hand on her stomach.

She couldn't help smiling. "I wouldn't want that either, but she doesn't look very interested in us."

"I don't like it when she receives post from her parents and she walks around with an evil grin across her face," stated Emeric.

"Maybe you are worrying too much," she said gently.

"I'd rather prefer to worry too much than not to worry enough," he replied.

Rachel sighed deeply. "Okay, keep an eye on her then. But don't lose your sleep over something like that."

He nodded seriously. "Have you asked Slughorn about the roast beef?"

"Nope, you have to remind me next time we have Potions," said Rachel. They walked to the Great Hall and they separated at the door, one headed to the Gryffindor table and the other one for the Slytherin one.

Rachel sat down next to Allyson and smiled. "So how was Charms this morning?" she asked cheerfully.

"Funny. Professor Flitwick fell down from his pile of books because Malcolm's spell hit him," she answered.

"Great," muttered Rachel. "How many points did he take from Gryffindor?"

"Oh, just thirty. Not as bad as usual," said Allyson quietly.

Rachel nodded. She opened her mouth to say that Slughorn had reminded them about the party in his office when an old, small owl, carrying a parcel twice his size, landed right in front of her, spilling all her pumpkin juice.

"Pig," exclaimed Rachel, taking his parcel. "How are you?" she asked, stroking his feathers.

The owl hooted in response and flew away.

"Looks like mum is sending me something," she said to no one as she opened the parcel.

Allyson peeked over her cousin's shoulders. "Oh, Aunt Hermione sent you some new clothes," she said, disappointed. "My mum never does that."

Rachel smiled. "I needed these clothes because my school robes are becoming too small for me," she said, showing the open buttons on the top of her skirt. "I can't manage to close these stupid buttons."

Allyson suppressed a giggle. "Well, looks like someone here is eating too much."

"I'm eating for two," she snapped at her cousin.

"Hey, hey, hey, who's getting our cousin angry?" asked a tall boy with milk-coffee skin.

"Another cousin of yours, Matthew," snapped Allyson.

"Yeah, but is this other cousin pregnant as well?" asked another boy with milky skin and red hair.

"Not yet, Thomas," she answered sarcastically.

"Then, sorry, but we have to protect Rachel from you, Allyson," Thomas declared.

"Where are your sisters?" asked Allyson, annoyed.

"They are coming," said Matthew vaguely. They sat down across from Allyson and Rachel and started to eat.

"So, Aunt Hermione has sent you something," said Thomas.

Rachel nodded. "Some new clothes. Mine are becoming too small for me," she said, blushing.

"Uh-oh, somebody here is eating for two," said Matthew teasingly.

"Stop bothering Rachel," said a tall girl, walking towards the boys. She had dark skin just like Matthew. "Didn't you see what happened to Malcolm?"

"Phoebe is right," said another red-headed girl. "Remember the spoon!"

"Thank you, Phoebe, thank you, Alexis, you are really useful," said Rachel, rolling her eyes.

"You are welcome, Rachel," answered Phoebe.

"Anything for our cousin," added Alexis. "Anyway, my dad wrote to me. He said that he and Uncle George are waiting for you in Zonko's next time that there'll be a trip to Hogsmeade."

"Just one thing," said Thomas. "Dad is not very happy that you are together with that Malfoy boy."

"Yeah, well, my father is not happy as well. Why should I bother with Uncle Fred?" snapped Rachel rather rudely.

Phoebe shrugged. "Well, you know what happened to Aunt Katie, don't you?" she asked her.

Rachel looked at her and frowned. "No," she answered.

"What? Your parents never told you what happened to Aunt Katie in her last year here at Hogwarts?" asked Matthew.

"No," repeated Rachel, annoyed.

"Well, mum must have asked them to keep it a secret because it's a very dark story," said Thomas. "Right, Alexis?"

Alexis nodded. "Well, maybe if mum doesn't want to let them know, it's better if we don't tell."

"No!" snapped Allyson. "Now, we want to know."

"You are too young to know things like that," said Matthew mockingly.

Allyson glared at him. "I'm only two years younger than you," she hissed, then she smiled suddenly. "Well, never mind that. If you don't want to tell us, we'll ask Leonard," she said haughtily.

"You think you are funny, don't you?" said Thomas. "Okay, we'll tell you."

"Yeah, we don't want Leonard to give out all his knowledge," said Matthew annoyed. "Alexis, tell her."

"Why me?"

"Because Katie Bell is your mother and you know the story better than anybody else," said Phoebe.

Alexis shrugged. "Well, actually, in her last year at Hogwarts, mum had been cursed and Malfoy – well, really, it was Madam Rosmerta, but under the Imperius Curse of Draco Malfoy – gave her a necklace that should have killed Dumbledore. But mum touched it and she spent almost the whole school year in St. Mungo's with her memory damaged," she whispered.

Rachel looked at her with her eyes wide. "Draco Malfoy?"

Thomas nodded. "The father of your boyfriend," he stated.

Rachel swallowed noisily. "Well, Emeric is really different," she said hoarsely.

Matthew and Thomas looked at her and burst into laughter. "We know!" they exclaimed together. "And Uncle Harry keeps on telling us that, after all, Draco Malfoy is not so evil. At least, not since his sixth year at Hogwarts."

"Why his sixth year?" asked Allyson curiously.

Phoebe shrugged. "We don't know. We don't talk much about the Malfoys at home."

"Yeah, we just know that he tried to kill Dumbledore, but didn't succeed. And that he had an affair with that ghost in the girls' bathroom," said Matthew seriously.

"Yeah, well, thanks a lot for the news, but I'll be happy if you don't go around gossiping about me and Emeric," said Rachel.

"We didn't! You asked us," protested Thomas.

"I didn't. Allyson wanted to know," said Rachel.

Allyson shrugged. "I was curious," she said.

"Okay, all of this sounds really funny, but I have classes to attend, so see you at dinner," said Rachel, standing up slowly and walking towards the door.

All the Weasleys looked at her as Emeric caught up with her and they exited together.

"I have to tell you something," said Emeric gravely.

"Good or bad thing?" she asked him.

"Not so good," he answered slowly. "Sybella said that she owled my parents. She told them that we went to the Burrow for lunch this Sunday."

"And?"

"And nothing, but it's very likely that my father won't be happy about it. And maybe my mother will invite us to the Manor one of these days," he said, scared.

Rachel tried to sound casual as she said, "Well, that would be nice."

Emeric looked at her. "That would be – that would be nice?" he asked in disbelief. "It will be nice if we'll manage to get out of the Manor alive," he stopped for a while. "All three of us," he added.

"Oh, come on, they can't be so bad after all," she said, waving a hand in front of him.

"You can't even imagine," he said blankly. "That wicked witch, I swear that I'll kill her."

"Who? Sybella?" asked Rachel, giggling. "She is not worth it."

Emeric sighed. "You are right."

They walked towards the Charms classroom and, in doing so, they passed in front of a bathroom from where came such a terrible smell, they had to cover their nose and walk faster.

Sybella peeked out of the door of the bathroom as she heard steps outside. She moved her head back and closed the door slowly. Leaning against the wall she took a deep breath, then covered her nose and came back to the small cauldron in which the abortion potion was boiling. Very unluckily, it took an entire month to fully brew a decent abortion potion. The recipe had been on the book page that her father sent her. It was almost December; it should be ready for January.

She had decided to act in January. That would be funny. Emeric and that Weasley girl would have the greatest loss because they would have been already accustomed to the baby's presence and it would have been more painful for them to lose him. Maybe their pain would drive them away from each other, and at that point, Mr. Malfoy would have to reward her for all her precious help.

She coughed a little over the steam that came from the cauldron, then picked up the Mandrake roots and poured them into the potion. She watched the potion for another half an hour, mixing it with her wand and then she moved the small cauldron into a corner on the other side of the bathroom's door, hidden under a basin. She exited the bathroom, trying to look extremely calm, but hardly succeeding due to the excited grin across her face.


	12. Slughorn’s Party

Disclaimer: Not mine, nope.

A/N: So, somebody said that I'm updating a little bit too often. You are really never happy, are you? Just joking, anyway, I hope that you are enjoying all these updates. Oh, some of you also noticed that this story is turning a bit dark, it's true. But don't worry, as always I'm planning a happy ending. Enjoy this chapter.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for all your help with those chapters.

**Slughorn's Party**

"I don't want to come," protested Rachel, crossing her arms on her chest. "I'm not in the right mood."

"You said that you couldn't wait to go just half an hour ago," pointed out Allyson, rolling her eyes.

"I've changed my mind," snapped Rachel.

"Well, Slughorn is waiting for us. We said that we would go and Emeric will be there as well. So just get ready and come downstairs," said Allyson.

"No!" cried Rachel.

"Oh, stop being stupid, we have a party to attend," retorted Allyson.

Rachel's eyes filled with tears.

"What? What did I do now?" she asked impatiently.

"You said that I'm stupid," said Rachel, crying.

"You aren't stupid, you are just – well – you're silly – sometimes," she added hastily.

Rachel sniffed. "It's not like silly is much better than stupid."

"Okay, listen, I know that we have to be careful with you because of your situation, but I swear that if you don't get ready in less than ten minutes and don't come downstairs, I'll tell everybody that you have gained eleven pounds in two months," she almost screamed.

Rachel looked at her with her eyes wide open. "I'm coming," she muttered, standing up from her bed and opening the closet.

Allyson grinned, pleased with herself, and walked down the stairs of the Gryffindor tower to the common room. Rachel came down less than ten minutes later. She was wearing a long blue dress, quite loose around her waist so as to hide her stomach pretty well. Her hair was combed in a nice plait that fell on her back.

"So? Was it so difficult?" Allyson asked Rachel, grinning.

Rachel muttered something that sounded like 'spoon and nose' and walked towards the portrait hole. Allyson caught up right outside of the common room. "Are you going to meet up with – oh! Looks like you are going to meet up with him," said Allyson as soon as she spotted Emeric standing right next to Rachel. He was wearing a black dress robe, exactly the kind of thing that you expected to find on a Malfoy.

"Are you able to form a sentence in English?" snapped Rachel.

"Oh, a little bit nervous, are we this evening?" asked Emeric, smiling.

"No, I'm not, and don't team up with my cousin," retorted Rachel.

"I'm not teaming up with your cousin," he said defensibly.

Rachel glared at both him and Allyson. "Let's go, I don't want to be late and then have Slughorn mad at me because of you," she muttered, walking past them and into the dungeon's direction.

Emeric and Allyson exchanged a perplexed look.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Rachel impatiently from the stairs.

They reached her and Emeric took her hand in his. Allyson pretended to be sick.

"So, have you asked for the roast beef?" asked Emeric casually.

"No, I forgot," said Rachel, patting her cousin's forehead. "But you should have reminded me."

"Well, never mind," he said reassuringly.

When they reached the door of Slughorn's office, Allyson entered first and scanned the room in a silent search for Oliver Wood.

"Ah! Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn addressed them as they entered. "There are quite a lot of people to whom I want to introduce you."

Rachel and Emeric nodded as Slughorn guided them near Oliver Wood. "Oliver, my dear," he said, dragging him away from a crowd of giggling girls. "I wanted to introduce you to Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy."

Oliver looked at Rachel with interest. "Weasley, eh? Let me guess – daughter of George Weasley!"

Rachel shook her head. "No, I'm-"

Slughorn hushed her gently. "Come on, my dear, let him guess."

Rachel arched her eyebrows.

"Daughter of Percy Weasley?"

"No," answered Rachel impatiently.

Oliver scratched his forehead. "Fred Weasley?" he asked.

"No!" snapped Rachel, a little bit more rudely than she intended.

"Charlie Weasley?"

"Nope. Can I give you a hint? It starts with 'R'."

Oliver seemed to think hard about all the Weasley siblings. "Oh, yeah, there was one whose name started with an 'R'. Which one was that?"

Rachel faked a cough that sounded oddly like 'Ron'.

"Oh, of course! Ron Weasley! How can I have forgotten about him?" exclaimed Oliver. "Maybe it's because he didn't play Quidditch on the team when I was at Hogwarts. Actually, has he ever played Quidditch?"

Rachel smiled evilly. "Well, he has. But he was terrible," she said, shaking her head in a very theatrical way. "My Uncle Harry had wanted to send him off the team a couple of times," she said, smirking.

"Oh, well, that's a pity because almost all the Weasleys played Quidditch wonderfully," said Oliver, accepting a glass of firewhisky from a house-elf.

Rachel shrugged.

"And you are a Malfoy?" asked Oliver, looking at Emeric without hiding his hostility.

"I am," he said, looking at Oliver without smiling. "Son of Draco Malfoy."

Oliver darkened. "Draco Malfoy? He bought himself onto the Slytherin Quidditch team in his second year, did you know that?"

Emeric rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't. But actually, I don't really care either."

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "I thought that the Malfoys had more pride."

"I'm not even sure that I'm a Malfoy anymore," muttered Emeric.

"What?" asked Oliver distractedly.

"Oh, but you don't know the happy news yet, Oliver," said Slughorn in a cheerful tone of voice. "The Malfoy family and the Weasleys will soon melt into one big happy family."

Oliver almost choked on the firewhisky. "What?" he asked, coughing.

"This girl," Slughorn turned to place an hand on Rachel's shoulder, but she wasn't near him anymore. He shrugged and turned, continuing to tell the story of Rachel and Emeric to Oliver.

"I know that it was a bad idea to come here," said Rachel, shoving a canapé into her mouth.

"Yeah, well, this afternoon you were so excited to come here," Emeric pointed out.

"And by this evening I had already changed my mind," she snapped.

"Yeah, but we know that you change your mind a little bit too frequently lately, don't you?"

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off when she heard a snigger at her back.

"Why, Emeric. Are you teasing our little mummy?" asked Sybella, sneering.

Emeric and Rachel shot her a nasty look. "What do you want, Sybella?" asked Emeric rudely.

"You are not very nice, are you?" she shot back teasingly.

"I'm nice with who's nice, and I'm nasty with who's nasty," answered Emeric matter-of-factly.

"Oh, Weasley!" exclaimed Sybella. "Let me have a better look of you," she said, stepping towards Rachel and seizing her chin into her hand. "You have gained weight, haven't you?"

Rachel slapped her hand away. "Mind your own business."

"I am," she said, stepping back.

Rachel and Emeric looked at her darkly. "What do you mean?" asked Emeric.

Sybella shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing," she answered vaguely.

"Why should Rachel be some of your business?" he insisted.

"This filthy little daughter of a Mudblood is everybody's business now that she is pregnant with your child, isn't she?" asked Sybella, lowering her voice.

Emeric's eyes flashed dangerously as he took a step towards her. But, luckily, Rachel seized his arm and restrained him from any inconsiderate acts against the Slytherin girl.

Sybella stepped back and smirked. "Come on, punch me! I'll be happy to tell everybody that you are a violent git. They'll take you away from that girl and from your baby before you'll have the time to say 'it wasn't me'," she said. "And that will save me lots of work," she added under her breath.

"What?" asked Emeric, getting closer to her.

Sybella grimaced and walked away, disappearing between the crowd of people in the room.

"Did you hear what she said?" Emeric asked Rachel, concerned.

"That you are a violent git," sighed Rachel. "But don't worry. I know that it's not true."

Emeric waved a hand in front of her impatiently. "Not that," he said hastily. "I meant her last sentence."

"No, it was a bare whisper, how could have I heard it?" asked Rachel, not concerned at all.

"It didn't sound like anything good."

"Oh, please, you aren't starting again with this story, are you?"

"Which story?" asked him, feeling his anger rising.

"The fact that Sybella has something against us and will harm the baby in some way," she answered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh my--what's wrong with you?" he asked her rudely. "Why is so hard for you to believe that she's up to something definitely not good?"

"Because she is just a fifteen-year-old girl. What would she be able to do to us?" asked Rachel, sighing.

"She is a very sneaky Slytherin. Shouldn't that be enough to fear her?"

"Nope," she said, smiling. "Because you are a very sneaky Slytherin as well and I don't fear you in any way," she added, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him. He tried to resist her, but after a couple of soft kisses, he smiled and started to kiss her back.

"Rachel! Malfoy! Control yourself!" snapped Leonard Weasley, passing by.

Rachel and Emeric let go of each other and burst into laughter. "What about getting out of here?" asked Emeric, attracting her attention back on him.

"What will I tell Allyson?" she asked, looking at all the people. "I told her that we would come back to Gryffindor tower together."

"Tell her that you didn't feel well," he proposed, placing his arm around her waist.

"And should I lie to her?" she asked jokingly.

"I'm sure that you can lie pretty well if you want to," he said, starting to place soft kisses on her forehead and on her cheeks.

"And what does that mean?" she asked, pushing him back.

He looked at her with his eyes half-closed. "Nothing, Rachel. Just get out of here, I want to find an empty classroom and snog you."

Rachel pretended to be indignant. "Lower your voice," she said. "I don't want everybody to think that we are a couple of students with just one thing on their mind."

"No, you are right," he said, starting to kiss her again. "Now, can we go?"

Rachel smiled while he kissed her nose softly. "Okay," she said weakly after a while. "Let's go out of here."

Emeric smiled, evidently satisfied with himself, and dragged her out of Slughorn's office. They walked through the hallway quickly and climbed up the stairs, laughing and stopping every ten seconds to kiss.

"The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom," muttered Emeric between kisses, opening a door and pushing Rachel inside gently.

Rachel sat on one of the desks and wrapped her arms around Emeric's neck while he moved his hands around on her back from her waist to her shoulders. They kissed for a while, then Emeric started to play with the edge of her dress on her neckline. He moved it away gently and started to place some little kisses on her neck cavity. His hands started to grab at her chest softly, but as soon as he touched her breast, he felt her hand pushing him away.

"What?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"No," she murmured. "Just snogging."

Emeric raised his eyebrows. "It's not as if we have never done this before," he snapped.

"I know," she answered sharply.

"And?"

"Not now," she answered simply.

"Why?"

"Because it's different now."

"What's different?" he asked annoyed.

She placed a hand on her stomach. "The baby."

"Nothing will happen to the baby," he said hastily. "I'll be utterly careful," he added, bending down and kissing her again.

"No," she snapped, pushing him away more rudely. "Can't you wait for just seven months?"

He looked at her like she was going insane, but he just nodded his head. "I guess so, if you really don't want to," he sighed.

"Thank you," Rachel said, jumping down from the desk and walking towards him. "But you can keep on kissing me. I was enjoying that." She smirked.

He smiled back mischievously and took her in his arms again. "Good, because I was enjoying that as well," he muttered with his lips on hers.

It was ten past midnight when Emeric accompanied Rachel to the Fat Lady. He kissed her several more times before she said goodnight to him and entered the common room.

"Where have you been?" asked Allyson, arm crossed on her chest and a frown on her face.

Rachel smiled sheepishly. "I didn't feel well. I needed to walk around a bit outside of that crowded room."

"You could have told me," Allyson snapped. "I was worrying about you."

"Were you? Really? That's so nice," said Rachel, smiling.

Allyson rolled her eyes and couldn't help smiling too. "You have been with Emeric, haven't you?"

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, we were talking," she said vaguely.

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm sure that you used your tongue a lot," said Allyson teasingly.

"Allyson!" she shrieked jokingly.

Allyson burst into laughter and ran up the stairs that led to the fifth year girls dorm. Rachel looked at her with a smile and walked up to her dorm as well, falling asleep almost immediately with a hand on her belly and a smile on her face.


	13. Planning the Christmas Holidays

Disclaimer: Not mine, nope.

A/N: Well, I'm running out of ideas with what to write in my Author's Notes. Hem… enjoy the chapter, maybe?

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for being such a good beta-reader.

**Planning the Christmas Holidays**

Millicent Bulstrode took the cup of tea from Pansy's hands and thanked her pompously.

Pansy nodded distractedly. "Have you tried some of these biscuits?" she asked her friend.

"Yes, thank you, Pansy," said Millicent. "They are really good. Did your house-elf do something different to them?"

"No, I did something different to the house-elf," said Pansy, grinning. "We bought a new one."

"Really? I couldn't live without mine. He cooks so well," stated Millicent.

"Yes, I remember that wonderful fish that he prepared last time we came," said Pansy, sipping some of her own tea.

Millicent nodded. "So, Pansy, how is Emeric doing?" she asked casually.

Pansy darkened. "He is fine," she said, lowering her voice. "Just don't let Draco hear you talking about him. He is very sensible about the subject."

Millicent arched her eyebrows. "You know what Blaise told me? That you are having a correspondence with that Mudblood Granger. I told him that he's crazy," said Millicent, grinning.

Pansy blushed furiously. "Yeah, well, he's not exactly wrong, you know."

"What do you mean?" asked Millicent, trying hard not to choke on her tea.

"That I actually have been sending letters to Hermione Weasley," she whispered.

"And Draco knows about that?"

"No, he wouldn't understand it very much," Pansy said slowly.

"I wonder why," said Millicent sarcastically.

"Oh, well, they are going to be related to us. It's not so bad if I keep in touch with Hermione," said Pansy, smiling sheepishly.

"And since when did you start calling her 'Hermione'? I thought that Mudblood suited her better," said Millicent venomously.

"Well, she'll be the grandmother of my grandson. You should owe her some respect just for that," said Pansy forcefully.

Millicent laughed. "Well, from the rumours that I've heard, it's not sure that that baby will born anytime soon."

Pansy glared at her. "These rumours aren't exact," she snapped. "That baby is going to born next summer."

Millicent raised her eyebrows and sipped some more tea from her cup. "Well, you know what's funny? That some other rumours said that you were keen to melt your blood with the one of the Weasleys, and looks like this rumour is true."

Pansy blushed even deeply than before. "I-I'm not keen to melt my blood with the Weasleys'. I simply don't want Draco to kill our grandson. I'm sure that if he'll do that, he'll regret his actions."

"Oh, yes, or maybe you'll be the one that is going to regret that your grandson is a half Weasley when he'll be born," stated Millicent.

Pansy seemed to hesitate before answering. "I-I don't think so. I-I think that it won't matter."

Millicent raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, of course. May I remind you that everybody will make a fool of you because of him?"

"Everybody – who?" asked Pansy, confused.

Millicent shrugged. "All your friends."

"If they are my friends, they shouldn't make a fool of me," replied Pansy sharply.

"My dear Pansy, it's not so easy," said Millicent knowingly. "You are a Malfoy and Malfoys have always been famous for their unconditional hate for everything tainted and that girl – believe me – is tainted."

"Tainted?"

"The blood that flows in her veins is, in some way, Muggle blood. Because of her mother," explained Millicent.

"Her mother isn't a Muggle," Pansy pointed out.

"She's a Muggle-born. Pretty much the same, isn't it?" asked Millicent.

"No, it's not," snapped Pansy.

Millicent sighed and took another sip of her tea. "Well, Blaise wasn't wrong, then. You are fraternizing with those filthy individuals." She smiled unexpectedly. "Well, you know, maybe I can help you get yourself out of this mess."

"Which mess?" Pansy asked, puzzled.

"This mess. The fact that you have to be nice to a Mudblood and those blood-traitors Weasleys," stated Millicent.

Pansy put down her cup of tea and looked at her friend with her eyebrows raised. "Really? And your help would be?"

Millicent placed her cup next to Pansy's, took something out of her pocket, and shoved it in Pansy's hands.

"What's this?" asked Pansy, looking intently at a small bottle full of a mother-of-pearl shiny liquid whose steam rose in spirals.

"Why, why, Pansy, don't you recognize some Amortentia?" asked Millicent, waving her hand in front of Pansy.

"Amortentia? What should I do with a love potion?" Pansy countered, placing the small bottle on the table. "I didn't need it to conquer my husband, contrary to popular belief," she said mockingly.

Millicent glared at her. "I just helped Blaise to realize who was right for him," she snapped. "Anyway, this potion isn't for you."

"No?"

"No. It's for your son," stated Millicent.

Pansy looked at her quizzically. "My son is already in love with that Weasley girl," she replied.

"I know. And that's exactly what you are going to use the potion for – oh my, Pansy! Do I have to explain everything to you?" Millicent asked impatiently.

"I guess so, since I do not understand a thing you are saying," said Pansy matter-of-factly.

Millicent sighed deeply. "You should use the potion, which I'm graciously lending you, to help your son fall in love with someone different, other than that girl. Someone more right for a pureblood like him."

Pansy looked at Millicent with her mouth wide open. Then she glanced at the small bottle on the table. For a long moment she didn't say a word, torn between the urge to run away from everything and everybody and take that potion and use it on her son. After all, if she used it, all her problems would disappear. Draco would praise her and forgive their son. Life at Malfoy Manor would come back to normal.

Pansy was snapped out of her thoughts when the door of her living room burst open and Draco entered, walking quickly towards her. He stopped and glared at her, then slammed a piece of parchment on the small, round coffee table, causing the cups of tea to fall off and break.

"What does this mean?" he hissed.

Pansy looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Don't pretend that you don't know anything," he hollered as Pansy picked up the parchment and read it.

She turned a nasty green colour and glared at Millicent. "Did you ask your daughter to watch over my son?" she asked, her anger rising.

Millicent shrugged. "Why?"

"Because it was none of her business that my son had been to the Weasleys' house for Sunday brunch two weeks ago," she almost yelled.

"I thought that you wanted to be informed," said Millicent simply.

Pansy open her mouth to reply, but Draco prevented her. "Yes, we wanted to be informed. Thank you, Millicent," he said calmly. "And tell Sybella that she's doing a great job."

"I will," answered Millicent.

Pansy was glancing at her husband and at Millicent with her mouth open. "How can you say something like that?" she asked him. "Since when are you controlling Emeric?"

"Since I was informed that he had impregnated that girl," snapped Draco. "You knew that he went at the Weasleys' house," he realized, taking a step towards Pansy and seizing her arm painfully.

Pansy moaned. "Let me go," she said, trying to peel Draco's fingers off her arm.

Draco tightened his grip on her arm. "I warn you, Pansy, if you wanted to make me angry, you are succeeding very well," he said, shaking her.

"Let me go," she almost shrieked. "You have no rights to what you are doing."

Millicent was looking at them, amused.

"What are you talking about? I have all rights. He is my son and he is still an underage wizard, I can decide for him," said Draco darkly.

"You can't kill somebody just because of your foolish blood theories," replied Pansy, still trying to remove Draco's hand from her arm. She decided to change strategies. "Do you want to be sent back to Azkaban? McGonagall keeps a close eye on Emeric and on that girl. If you harm them in any way, you'll be thrown in that prison and you know how much you hated it."

Draco glared at her. He bit his bottom lip, but didn't reply. He shoved Pansy back, releasing her arm, and looked at her while she fell on the armchair and rubbed her arm. She rolled up the sleeve of her dress and showed him a blue bruise, quite large and surely painful.

He looked at it with his eyes wide. Was he starting to hurt his wife? The woman that he should have loved more than his own life? He stepped back and tottered.

"Tell Emeric that he has to come home for Christmas," he said with a voice that he didn't recognize. As if he was trying to sound harsh, but wasn't succeeding very well.

"What if he doesn't want to come?" hissed Pansy, glaring at him.

"Tell him that he has to come home. I won't accept a refusal," stated Draco before he stormed out of the living room.

Millicent smirked. "See, Pansy? All these things wouldn't have happened if Emeric wouldn't have fallen in love with that Weasley girl. Now the only way to put things right is this potion." She nodded towards the small bottle on the table.

Pansy glared at her. She stood up slowly and took the small bottle into her hands. Then, unexpectedly, she threw it on the floor and smashed it.

Millicent looked at her with her mouth gaping like a fish.

"Don't you dare come into my house with something like that again. Do you hear me?" she hissed. "I don't need your useless advice. I will never force my son into loving someone other than that girl."

Millicent stood up quickly and shook her head. "You are weak, Pansy. I thought that you would have been stronger, just for your family's sake."

"Get out of here," hissed Pansy.

"I will, but remember that you'll regret what you are doing," said Millicent, walking towards the entryway.

When Pansy heard the door shut behind Millicent she collapsed into an armchair. She took her head into her hands and started to sob quietly. When she had no more tears to shed, she took a piece of parchment and did the only thing she could do, hoping that Draco wouldn't spoil the Christmas holidays.

The next morning, in-between all the letters that landed on the Slytherin table, there was one addressed to Emeric, which first made him turn as white as the Bloody Baron, then green as the tie that he was wearing, and, lastly, red as his girlfriend's hair.

He stood up and crossed the Great Hall with long strides, walking toward the Gryffindor table, at which nobody was surprised to see him anymore.

"I have to talk to you," he said hastily to Rachel.

"Can't you wait until breakfast is over? I'm still hungry," she protested.

"No," he answered simply, seizing her arm and dragging her out of the Great Hall.

"Hey, wait! Where are we going? I have classes in ten minutes," she protested.

He stopped abruptly. "Look," he said harshly, throwing the letter from his mother into her hands.

Rachel's skin became so white that, for a moment, he thought that she was going to disappear in front of him. "You won't go, will you?" she asked him.

"I don't have a choice," he answered bitterly.

"B-but your father will – he will-" Her voice failed her.

"He won't kill me, if that's what you are thinking," he reassured her. "But he will surely make my life hell."

"Tell him that you don't want to go home. He can't force you," she said, seizing his robes and stroking them.

"He can," stated Emeric.

"But I thought that he didn't want you at home. I thought that he didn't want to see you or me anymore," she said desperately.

"He must be up to something."

Rachel looked at him while big tears were forming at the corner of her eyes. "Tell Professor McGonagall," she cried. "Tell her. She won't permit your father to take you home without your agreement."

"I'm still an underage wizard. He can do whatever he wants," said Emeric sullenly.

"No, Emeric, please, don't go," cried Rachel, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "I wanted to spend Christmas here with you."

Emeric grab hold of her wrists gently and pushed her some inches away, so that he could look into her eyes. "Rachel, listen, if I come back here and there's something strange with me, alert Professor McGonagall, okay?"

Rachel brought her hands to her mouth. "Something strange like what?" she muttered.

"Like if I don't remember you, or if I've suddenly fallen in love with a pureblood Slytherin girl. Understood?"

Rachel nodded.

"Good," he muttered, hugging her. "You know, you should go home as well. I don't want you to stay here all alone."

Rachel sighed and released him. "No," she said simply.

"I don't want to know that you are staying here all alone."

"I won't be all alone. There'll be the teachers and some students," she said.

"Students that you have never talked to," he pointed out.

Rachel shrugged. "Well, I won't go home. I can't see my dad right now," she stated.

"I know," he sighed. "Hey! Why don't you go to your grandparents' house?" he exclaimed.

"I don't know," she started slowly. "My cousins will be there too during these holidays. And I don't get along with them very well."

"What are you talking about? You and your cousin are always together," he said, confused.

Rachel smiled. "Not them," she said. "My other cousins. They live in France and attend Beauxbatons. Their mother is a part Veela. You can't even imagine how annoying they can be."

"Really?"

"Yep, they always speak with a fake French accent only because they want to annoy you. In fact, they can speak English perfectly well," she answered.

"Well, but I think that they won't annoy you too much if Malcolm tells them about the spoon accident," said Emeric, smiling.

Rachel slapped him playfully on his arm. "Stop reminding me about that or I'll start to think that you want to try that experience."

"No, thanks," he answered hastily.

Rachel smirked. "I should send an owl to my grandmother then," she sighed.

"I guess so," he said slowly.

"I can't think about spending the Christmas holidays far away from you," she said in a melancholy tone of voice.

"We didn't see each other for two whole months this summer and you are worried about just a couple of weeks?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, because during this summer, our parents didn't want us to die a painful death," she stated.

"Okay, I got the point," he said quickly. "Now go and send the letter to your grandmother and tell me what she says."

Rachel nodded. "Okay, don't worry – oh my, I'll be going to be late for Ancient Runes," she said, standing on tiptoes and kissing Emeric before she disappeared up the stairs to the Ancient Runes classroom.

The next day she sent a letter to her grandmother and Molly Weasley answered back saying that she would have delighted to have her at the Burrow for the holidays. Naturally, she knew that she had to spend two weeks with her annoying cousins and that on Christmas day, her parents will show up at the door.

But after all, it could have been worse, couldn't it? Yes, she could have been born a Malfoy and had to come back to Malfoy Manor.


	14. Going Home

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would be busy writing book seven. I'm not busy right now.

A/N: --She doesn't know what to write here, so she looks around and whistle a little, pretends she's not here in front of the screen…--

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks for beta-reading my chapters.

**Going Home**

"Tell me that you'll come back in one piece," Rachel said, sobbing on Emeric's shoulder.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, amused.

Platform 9 ¾ was quickly emptying as students were taken home by their happy parents. Emeric and Rachel stood in a corner, holding each other tightly, feeling that if they would have let the other go, they would have died. All the other Weasleys, and a couple of Potters, were on the other side of the station, sitting on their own trunks with annoyed looks on their faces as they glanced furtively at the couple. Harry should have been the one that brought them home, but he was quite late.

"You know what I mean. You have to come back Hogwarts with all your limbs still attached to your body," she said.

Emeric smiled. "I will. I swear that I will."

Rachel released him and looked into his eyes with her own teary ones. "Why aren't you afraid of what awaits you?" she asked him. "I would be scared at the very idea of passing two weeks with your father."

Emeric sighed. "Because I know that my mother won't let anything bad happen to me," he said, even if he wasn't so sure. "And because I have no choice."

"I don't want to go home," said Rachel in a childish voice, while big tears escaped her eyes.

Emeric wiped away her tears. "You'll be fine. All you have to do is relax and rest a bit."

"I can't!" she protested. "How can I relax when I know that you are – you are-"

"I'm at my house. Think that, will you?" he asked reassuringly.

She looked at him with her chocolaty eyes. "Promise me that you'll write," she said.

"I promise that I'll write," he answered. "And you promise me that you'll rest."

She bit her lips. She wasn't sure that she could have rested with the thought of him confined in what she had always thought of as a cold manor with his crazy parents. He took her chin into his hand. "Promise me. For the baby's sake," he said seriously.

She freed herself from his hand and as she kissed him, he tasted her salty tears. He tried to push her away gently. "Promise me," he repeated breathlessly.

"I promise," she said, while a sob escaped her lips.

Emeric smiled. "Good."

"Mr. Malfoy, your carriage has arrived," a tall hooded man with a creepy voice announced to Emeric.

Rachel looked at him taken aback by the abrupt interruption and suddenly felt uneasy next to that man. Emeric glared at him. "We have not yet finished," he snapped.

"I don't care," said the man, making Emeric's trunk levitate in front of him. "Your father told me to bring you straight home and if you were with a girl, to interrupt every conversation you might have been in and force you to move if it was necessary."

"It'll be necessary," retorted Emeric. But Rachel placed a hand on his face and made him look at her. "No, it's okay," she said, trying to sound calm. "You better follow him." She lowered her voice as she said, "I don't like him."

"I know," said Emeric hastily. "I can't wait for January," he added, kissing her one more time.

"I can't either," she whispered.

"Mr. Malfoy, your father is waiting for you," said the man.

Emeric glared at him, then turned his attention towards Rachel for the last time. "Wait for my letters," he said hastily before he walked away, following the man.

Rachel stared at his figure disappearing into the pillar that led out of the platform and walked sulkily towards the little crowd of her cousins and brothers.

"Some show you gave us, Rachel," said Matthew teasingly.

Rachel glared at him for a moment, then burst into tears and collapsed on top of her trunks. Matthew looked terrified at her. He rushed to her side, but before he could speak, his sister pushed him away and sat down next to Rachel. "Come on, Rachel," Phoebe said, hugging her. "January is not so far away."

Rachel looked at her and wiped away some of her tears. "It's not that," she whispered. "It's more the fact that I'm not sure if I'll see him alive again."

Phoebe smiled. "Now, now. I think that you are overreacting, don't you? He's just going home, not to Azkaban."

Rachel nodded wearily. "I guess so."

At that moment they heard some quick steps from behind them, echoing since the platform was now deserted.

"Dad!" said Wyatt, throwing himself into Harry's arms.

Harry looked at them and smiled. "Sorry for the delay, guys. Last time I checked my watch, it wasn't so late. So did you have a good term?" he asked cheerfully, holding Wyatt.

Allyson glared at her father. "You are always late," she said. "Why for God's sake can't you simply arrive on time for once?"

Harry's smile became bigger. "I assume that your term has been stressful," he said teasingly.

Allyson rolled her eyes. "Just a little bit," she growled.

"I know, my fifth year was hell too," said Harry, remembering the great amount of homework he had been given. "How is our little mummy doing?" Harry asked, pushing his way through the Weasleys and reaching for Rachel.

Rachel looked at him with her eyes red.

"She's just said goodbye to Emeric," explained Malcolm knowingly.

"Oh, well, didn't you say goodbye to him this morning at school?" asked Harry, confused.

Rachel shook her head and sniffled. "No, he's going home for the holidays as well," she whispered.

Harry looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "He is really brave," he muttered.

"What?" asked Rachel alarmed. "Why?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, because Hermione told me that Draco Malfoy was not very happy with the fact that you are pregnant with Emeric's baby, and I would be rather careful of him when he's not satisfied with what he has."

Rachel jumped to her feet. "What do mean, Uncle Harry?" she asked, concerned. "He can harm Emeric? Can't you prevent that?"

Harry sighed. "I don't think that he'll harm Emeric in any way. He's quite different from his father. But I can't do anything, anyway. By the way, I swear that if he does something to his own son, we'll send him to Azkaban."

"Oh thanks a lot," muttered Rachel. "Nice comfort, vengeance."

"Better than nothing," said Matthew cheerfully, gaining reproachful glares from everybody.

"We better move," said Harry, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen after Matthew's statement. "The Ministry's car is right out here. Rachel, I'll take your trunk."

"I can drag it by myself, thanks, Uncle Harry," she said politely.

"No way, sorry," said Harry, taking her trunk.

"Dad, if you want, you can take mine," said Allyson.

"No, thanks," answered Harry, smiling. "This way."

The little crowd of students followed Harry through the barrier and exited into the station. The car, magically enchanted, was parked right in front of the station. They climbed into it as some Muggles looked at them strangely while the eleventh boy climbed inside the car.

"Where are we going first?" asked Daniel as he arranged himself between Wyatt and Allyson.

"Diagon Alley, obviously," said Harry, starting the car.

They reached the Leaky Cauldron and Phoebe, Matthew, Alexis, and Thomas got out of the car. "See you on Christmas day at the Burrow," said Alexis to all the people left in the car.

"Of course," said Harry. "And tell your parents that the Ministry wants some other Daydream Charms."

Thomas nodded, smiling, and they disappeared inside the Leaky Cauldron.

"Leonard, where do you want me to leave you?" asked Harry to the eldest of the Weasleys, looking at him through the rear view mirror.

"Near the Ministry is fine with me," he said politely. "Thank you, Uncle Harry."

"Sure," answered Harry, turning into a small street. "Here you are."

Leonard thanked Harry and walked towards his house, a small cottage right next to the phone box that acted as the entrance into the Ministry of Magic.

Harry drove until Ron and Hermione's house and Malcolm and Daniel got off as well. Hermione exited in the garden when she heard a car stopping in front of her house.

"Hi Harry," she greeted him, leaning on the car's door.

"Hi Hermione, I've brought you your little angels, are you happy?" he asked sarcastically.

"Of course," she answered as sarcastically as him. Then she looked at her daughter still sitting at the back of the car. "Are you sure that you are going to stay at your grandparents' house?" she asked Rachel gravely.

Rachel nodded. "I've already decided. I don't want to meet dad," she said stubbornly.

"You'll see him anyway, on Christmas day," said Daniel.

"Yes, but only for a day, not for two weeks," she snapped.

Daniel shrugged and walked into his house.

"See you on Christmas day then," said Hermione, her voice breaking.

Rachel nodded, trying to fight back tears. She couldn't spend all her holidays crying, after all.

"Bye, Hermione," Harry bid her farewell.

Hermione waved goodbye as the car left.

"You know, I still don't get how you can pretend that staying at the Burrow is better than staying at your house," said Allyson.

"My father won't be at the Burrow.," said Rachel impatiently.

"Yeah, but there will be our annoying cousins," said Allyson.

"Allyson, don't talk about your cousins like that! They aren't annoying," Harry scolded at her.

Allyson snorted. "Mum doesn't hide the fact that she can't stand Aunt Fleur. Why I have to pretend that they are so nice?"

"Your mother likes Aunt Fleur. It's just that they don't get along very well," stated Harry.

"And I don't get along very well with my cousins then," she retorted.

Harry sighed. "Okay, I got the point."

Luckily, they reached their house at that point and Harry was pleased to see that Ginny was already at home because he still had to bring the car back to the Ministry. "Okay, we are home. Everybody get out, please," he said, smiling.

"What?" asked Rachel taken aback. "I thought you were going to take me to the Burrow."

"Nope, you'll use Floo Powder to get there. We have already alerted Molly. She is waiting for you," he said, levitating all the trunks into the house. "Ginny, we are home," Harry announced, entering from the kitchen door.

"Don't walk into the kitchen," shouted Ginny from upstairs. "I've just washed the floor."

Harry looked at the wet floor and stepped back, but, unfortunately, he was too abrupt and Allyson was too close to him, so he tripped over his daughter and fell on the floor, dragging Allyson and Wyatt down with him.

Ginny appeared on the door with a frown on her face. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking at her husband who was currently trying to stand up, but he kept on sliding on the floor. "If I told you to pass from the kitchen, would you have entered into the living room?" she asked Harry sarcastically.

"No!" he protested. "You should have told me earlier."

"The floor is all wet. Can't you see where you place your feet?" snapped Ginny.

"I'm in a hurry. I have to take the car back to the Ministry," said Harry, finally on his feet.

Allyson and Wyatt looked at their parents and rolled their eyes. "Can we come in now?" asked Allyson.

Ginny smiled at her. "Of course, Allyson. After all, your father has already spoiled all my work," she said, glaring at Harry.

Allyson and Wyatt passed by Harry and walked towards their mother. Ginny hugged them and then she turned her attention to Rachel.

"Oh, Rachel, dear, come in, please," she said, gesturing for her to enter.

"Are you sure, Aunt Ginny? Maybe it's better if I pass from the living room," she said unsure.

"Oh, no, no, come in," said Ginny warmly.

Rachel stepped on the wet floor of the Potters' kitchen and walked towards her aunt. "Hi Auntie," she said, hugging Ginny.

"Hi, Rachel. Come on, Grandma Molly is waiting for you," she said, guiding her towards the fireplace.

"Ginny, I'll be right back. I just have to take the car back to the Ministry," said Harry from the kitchen. "Rachel, see you at Christmas."

"Thank you for the lift, Uncle Harry," said Rachel.

"Sure," he answered, walking out of the house.

"Aunt Ginny, when are Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur arriving to the Burrow?" she asked trying to sound casually.

"Tomorrow," said Ginny, rolling her eyes. "You don't have to worry, you still have a whole day before they start to get on your nerves."

"Thank you, Aunt," said Rachel.

"Yeah, well, I heard that they aren't going to stay for all the holidays, just some days after Christmas, then they all leave for a trip to Egypt," said Ginny matter-of-factly.

Rachel's face lightened up. "Really?" she asked.

"Yep," answered Ginny, trying not to sound too happy. She picked up a small pot and gave some Floo Powder to Rachel. "Rachel, will you tell Grandma Molly that I haven't found any fairy to decorate the Christmas tree?"

Rachel nodded as she stepped inside the fireplace. "See you on Christmas, Allyson," she said, smiling. "Bye, Wyatt."

They all waved goodbye and she disappeared into green flames. When she reached the Burrow, Molly Weasley was waiting for her, seated in the armchair. "Oh, Rachel, dear, how are you doing?" she asked, sitting up and hugging her granddaughter at once.

"I'm fine, Grandma," she said, hugging her back.

"Come on, dear, let's go to your room," she said, standing up.

"Which room will I sleep in?" she asked, following her grandmother up the stairs.

"Your father's room," she answered. "Arthur! Rachel is here. Will you bring her trunk upstairs, please?"

"Of course," answered Arthur from his bedroom.

"Can I sleep in Aunt Ginny's room?" she asked slowly. "She is a girl and I like it most."

"Sorry, Rachel, but your father's bedroom is the only one available. Fleur and Bill and all your cousins are going to have the other rooms."

"Why?" she protested.

"Because I knew that you were coming only a couple of weeks ago, but Bill told me that they would have stayed here for the holidays last year," said Molly sweetly. "Here you are," she added when they reached the last bedroom at the top.

Rachel looked at the orange room with all the Chudley Cannons posters still hanging on the wall. She sighed deeply and sat down on the bed. "Thanks a lot, Grandma."

"You are very welcome," answered Molly smiling. "I think that you are hungry. If you come downstairs, I'll prepare whatever you want for you."

"I'll be right there," Rachel promised.

Molly nodded and closed the door behind her back. Rachel heard her grandmother walking down the stairs. When her steps faded away, she lay on the bed, placed a hand on her stomach, and stared at the ceiling. Her only thoughts were about a blond haired boy that, she was sure, she was going to miss very badly for the next two weeks.


	15. The Conversation Overheard

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But I own a cat, is it okay?

A/N: So, after a while a new chapter's here. Happy? I am, because I love this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it as well. Oh, and by the way, Happy holidays to you all!

To Halo of Darkness: I think I had the best idea ever, when I asked you to beta-read this story… Your Draco/Hermione's supporting comments are just hilarious. Thanks for them.

**The Conversation Overheard**

The day after Rachel's arrival to the Burrow, she was woken up by some familiar French-accented voices that filled the house. She sighed deeply and decided to stay in bed for another five hours, hoping that the sounds would have faded away sooner or later. But they didn't. On the contrary, they seemed to increase in their volume. Finally, the door of her room burst open and a tall, beautiful woman with long silver hair entered.

"Rachel!" cried her Aunt Fleur, rushing to her side. "How are you?"

Rachel looked at her. Was she just not very good with pretending that she was asleep, or did Aunt Fleur's indecency exceed every expectation?

"Hi, Aunty," she said sleepily. "I'm fine, thank you."

She heard some steps on the stairs and Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door. "Fleur! I told you that she was still sleeping. Couldn't you have waited?" asked Molly, fuming.

"I wanted to see my niece," she answered indignantly.

"She is staying here for two weeks. There's plenty of time for you to see her," said Mrs. Weasley firmly.

Fleur arched her eyebrows and turned her attention back to Rachel. "Come down quickly, sweetheart. Your cousins want to see you," she said in a sugary voice.

Rachel nodded and Fleur left the room, walking hastily.

"Rachel dear, get ready. Everybody wants to see you," Molly said, smiling warmly.

"Do I have to?" asked Rachel, sighing.

"Of course, and hurry up," said her grandma a little more harshly. It was commonly known that Mrs. Weasley didn't get along very well with Fleur.

Rachel slid out of her bed as slowly as she could and it took her half an hour to choose what to wear. When she was finally ready to go downstairs, she opened the door and climbed down the stairs, trying to make the least noise as she could.

Unfortunately her cousins were waiting for her in the living room.

"Rachel!" they all screamed, running towards her and circling her, all three of them very interested in her belly.

"Hi," she said patiently. "How are you doing?"

"Great," said Delphine, a fifteen-year-old girl with long silver-blonde hair just like her mother's. "We can't wait till the baby is born," she exclaimed excitedly in her fake French accent.

"Yeah, well, me too," she said, smiling a little.

"What are you going to call 'im?" asked Damien, the eldest of the three. He was seventeen years old and quite handsome. "Is he a boy or a girl?"

"I-I don't know yet," she stammered.

"Who is the father?" asked Michelle, the mirror image of her older sister, though she was a year younger than Delphine.

"He attends Hogwarts, you don't know him," answered Rachel awkwardly.

"Come on, children, let your cousin breathe." A man with long scars all over his face came into the living room smiling.

"Uncle Bill," she said, walking towards her saviour and hugging him tightly.

"How is my niece doing?" he asked her.

"Fine, thank you. What about you? Did you have a nice trip?"

"Of course we did," said Fleur, seizing Rachel by her shoulders, dragging her to the couch and starting to rub her belly gently. "Eet's a girl!" she exclaimed excitedly. "I'm sure."

"Yeah, well, I don't know yet," said Rachel, uneasy.

"Eet's a girl, believe me," she said haughtily. Rachel nodded hastily. "So, darling, why are you staying at The Burrow? Aren't your parents at 'ome?" asked Fleur, still rubbing Rachel's belly.

"Yes, they are. But I have – well, I had a kind of a row with my father," she said slowly.

Fleur looked at her. "Really?"

"Yes, he is not very happy about the situation," she started, blushing furiously.

Fleur looked at her intently, then she glanced at Bill, who shook his head slightly. Fleur bit her lips and walked out of the living room, leaving everybody stunned by her behaviour. Rachel would have expected her to at least say something very nasty about her father, and, for once, she would have been happy to agree with her.

Bill sat down on an armchair and smiled. "So, Christmas is in two days. What have you asked for, Rachel?"

"Nothing," she said slowly. "I've been too busy to think about anything."

"Well, maybe Père Noël brought you something from France," said Delphine.

"Merci beaucoup," said Rachel, smiling.

"You are welcome," answered Delphine.

"I'm starving. Where is Grandma?" Rachel asked suddenly, standing up from the couch.

"I think she's in the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for everybody," answered Bill, who was now glancing through the yesterday's _Daily Prophet_, which lay abandoned on the coffee table. He was happy to read something in English.

"Breakfast is ready!" They heard Molly saying from the kitchen.

The time that Rachel spent at the Burrow before Christmas wasn't so bad, at least not as bad as she had thought. Grandma Molly was extremely gentle with her--not that she usually wasn't; she was just gentler than ever. In fact, she didn't allow Rachel to do anything, 'because of her situation'.

Also her cousins were in some way less annoying than usual. The only thing that she couldn't stand was her aunt, who was always giving her advice on everything she did: the way she sat, the way she stood up, the fact that if she couldn't sleep at night, she had to stand up and walk a little bit. She simply tried to avoid her aunt as if she was her father.

Rachel spent all the day in front of the window in the living room, waiting for the eagle-shaped owl that would have brought her news from Emeric, but when Christmas arrived, she had not yet received anything from him. Allyson sent her letters twice a day, saying that she was extremely sorry, but didn't feel like visiting her while their other cousins were also at The Burrow. Rachel tried to explain to her that they weren't so bad after all, but it was all in vain.

The night of Christmas Eve, she was lying in her bed, unable to sleep because of a slight stomach ache, quite tense at the idea of meeting her father the next day. She decided for once to listen to her aunt and stood up from the bed. After aimlessly wandering around the bedroom for half an hour, she chose to climb down the stairs and head for the kitchen for some hot milk and biscuits, even if it was ten past eleven in the evening.

She tried to make as little noise as she could on the stairs. Passing by her grandparents' bedroom, she heard that they were snoring, both of them, quite loudly. She had to suppress a fit of giggles. Delphine and Michelle were in Fred and George's bedroom, while Damien was in Percy's. When she reached Ginny's bedroom, she froze because the door was ajar and a dim light came from inside. She passed by as slowly as she could. Her last desire was to wake up her Aunt Fleur, but from the hushed voices that came from inside, Aunt Fleur and Uncle Bill must have still been up.

She passed near the door without looking inside, determined not to listen to her aunt and uncle's discourse, until she caught her name said in a heavy French accent. She decided that maybe it wasn't so bad if she listened. Rachel leaned on the door and pressed her ear on it, praying that they weren't talking in French.

"I know that," said Uncle Bill in English.

"Then, if you know that, why don't you say something to your brother?" asked Fleur, irritated.

"It's not so easy, Fleur," answered Bill. "Ron never wants to listen to anybody. If in these three months he hasn't listened to my mum, do you think that I'll be able to make him change his mind?"

Rachel heard her aunt growling. "She didn't even go 'ome for the holidays. She must be scared of 'im."

"Maybe she is just as stubborn as he is," said Bill, trying to be funny. Rachel didn't find him funny at all, though. "You know, she is very much like Ron."

"She's not like that man," stated Fleur. "She's nice and sweet and much more intelligent than him."

Rachel flushed in the hallway and for a moment she felt guilty to be there, listening in to the private conversation of her aunt and uncle. She moved away from the door.

"And 'e is a hypocrite," snapped Fleur.

Rachel found her ear stuck to the door once more.

"I don't know, Fleur. I mean, it's not only the fact that they aren't married," said Bill.

"What is eet then?"

"Well, they are still at Hogwarts. They are still underage wizards and – well – he is the son of Draco Malfoy," said Bill, lowering the voice.

Fleur snorted. "You always say that. But I don't think that this Draco Malfoy is such a bad person."

"He is, or better, he was. Fleur, for the umpteenth time, he was the one that prepared the attack at Hogwarts twenty years ago," said Uncle Bill and Rachel knew that very likely, Aunt Fleur was looking at his scars.

"Well, twenty years ago is quite a long time," said Fleur dismissively. "I mean, 'e must have changed. 'E isn't in Azkaban, at least."

"He's not in Azkaban because the Ministry of Magic believed in his innocence, after Harry testified for him," said Bill.

"See? 'Arry testified for 'im and 'Arry is never wrong," said Fleur.

"Yeah, well, okay, Harry believes in his innocence, but he isn't too fond of this relationship. Maybe he's not taking it as bad as Ron is, but he isn't happy at all."

"Who cares? Look at Rachel. She is just so sad these days because she can't see that boy, and she spent all this time waiting for an owl from him," said Fleur, sighing.

"That's the power of love," said Bill wisely.

"Yeah, and her father is doing 'is very best to ignore 'er," scolded Fleur.

"Fleur, please," Bill's tone was half desperate and half annoyed. "I've already told you Ron's reasons. She is too young and still attends Hogwarts and they aren't married."

"First of all, she isn't too young. She'll turn seventeen before the baby is born, so there won't be any problems with that. She'll be an adult," said Fleur in a tone that didn't accept any replies. "Second, she still attends Hogwarts, and then? I'm sure that your mother will be happy to help her with the baby and she can come home and see 'er every weekend."

"Fleur, you are forgetting that they aren't married," pointed out Bill.

"How can you say something like that, Bill Weasley?" thundered Fleur.

Rachel did not quite understand why she was so angry about that fact. She had never heard her aunt get so angry with her husband about something.

"How can you say something like that?" repeated Fleur. Rachel understood that Uncle Bill wasn't answering.

"Oh, well, it's not like it makes much difference for me, Fleur," Bill pointed out. "But you know how Ron is. Evidently, she hasn't expressed her wish to marry anytime soon."

Rachel was quite confused. She pressed her ear closer to the door and it creaked slightly. She held her breath and listened to the noises that came from the bedroom, but nobody was talking anymore. She was already walking away when she heard her aunt speaking in a high-pitched voice. "Don't you remember that summer seventeen years ago?" She was saying. "We had to come 'ere from France in a great 'aste, because your younger brother was getting married a year earlier than 'e 'ad planned. We 'ad to travel when Damien was only ten months old."

"I know, Fleur," said Bill, sighing.

"I can still remember that the wedding dress of 'Ermione didn't close around 'er waist. She had to buy another one two days before the wedding. 'Er stomach was already too wide to fit inside of it," said Fleur.

Rachel brought a hand to her mouth, fighting the urge to enter into her aunt and uncle's bedroom and ask for more details. She hoped that they would come anyway.

"I know, Fleur," repeated Bill. "But they got married before Rachel was born."

"Yes, but she was pregnant when they got married," snapped Fleur. "Exactly like Rachel at this very moment."

"Lower your voice," said Bill. "You don't want to wake up the entire house, do you?"

"No," she said calmly. "But I don't understand why she 'asn't yet brought that up to 'er parents. She is too kind."

"I don't think that Ron and Hermione have ever told their children about that," stated Bill. "Ron made us promise not to tell anybody."

Fleur grunted in a very un-Fleur-ish way. "Somebody should tell that girl, then."

"If Ron doesn't want to her to know, I'm not going to tell her," said Bill.

"I'll tell 'er, then," stated Fleur.

"No," sighed Bill. "Please, Fleur, just act like everything is normal, will you? I know Ron well. He can be a prat sometimes, but he really cares for his wife and his children. He just has some difficulties accepting what's happening to his little daughter."

"If I were 'Ermione I would 'ave told her," cried Fleur, gaining another hush from Bill.

"Hermione, naturally, doesn't want to go against her husband," said Bill. "Now, will you please try to sleep? Tomorrow will be a long day. Everybody is coming here for Christmas lunch."

Fleur snorted again. Rachel heard her saying, "Bonne nuit," to her husband and Uncle Bill answered with a sleepy, "Good night." Then they turned off the light.

Rachel walked towards the stairs slowly and climbed down as noiselessly as she could. When she reached the kitchen, she collapsed on a chair and stared in front of her.

"My dad is a hypocrite," she muttered. "A filthy hypocrite." And

for the first time during the Christmas holidays, she couldn't wait to see her father. She couldn't wait to throw how much she hated him into his face.


	16. My Child

Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just borrowing.

A/N: Wow, I was re-reading this chapter after my beta-reader sent it back to me, and I was all—wow, this little girl is really mean to her father, and plus she's talking nonsense, I want to slap her!—but then I thought that she was pregnant, and that maybe she was all meddled up by hormones… Or at least, I hope so… although she's too similar to her father!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for helping me with your precious help.

**My Child**

Ron was turning nervously on the couch of his living room. During the last two months, he concluded that they had to buy a new couch, bigger and more comfortable, just in case he decided to sleep on it again in the coming years.

He felt terribly miserable. It was Christmas morning and instead of being upstairs and cuddling Hermione, he was trying to sleep on the couch with something that could have been a Fanged Frisbee under his back, too lazy to throw it away.

He sighed and, for a minute, he really wished that Harry had killed Malfoy back in their sixth year with the _Sectumsempra_ spell. But, in the next moment, he hoped that the poisoned mead would have killed him, as well.

He turned on the sofa another time and stared at the dying fire in the fireplace. The annoying fact was that he was still angry and deluded, but the reasons for his anger were slowly changing from only his daughter's behaviour.

At the beginning he felt betrayed by Rachel. He had always thought that she was as pure as a three-year-old child was, but, on the contrary, she was hiding a relationship with none other than the son of Draco Malfoy, and now that their relationship has gone too far, she was bearing the child of the child of Draco Malfoy.

Now that the idea of becoming a grandfather at the age of thirty-seven had pushed its way through his brain and his anger towards Rachel was slowly--very slowly--diminishing, he felt terribly ashamed about the way he treated her, the way he spoke to her, the way he felt about her.

Naturally, he still thought that she has acted inconsiderately, and that she was too young to have a child; but, after all, he was her father and, as Ginny said, she needed him.

Ron heard some steps on the stairs and turned his head to face the first person entering the living room on that Christmas morning, secretly hoping it to be Hermione. He wasn't disappointed, though, when he saw the small figure of his twelve-year-old son, Daniel.

"Merry Christmas, dad," he said, walking towards him with a broad smile.

"Merry Christmas, Daniel," said Ron, smiling back.

Daniel sat down on the floor right in front of the Christmas tree, He couldn't help peeking at the presents that were piled under it. He read the names on them very carefully, searching for gifts for himself.

"Dad, can I ask you something?" he queried when he had looked at all the greeting cards on the gifts.

"Yes," answered Ron sleepily.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch these days?" he asked innocently.

"Because it's kind of comfortable," he lied.

"You and Mum are planning to get a divorce?" questioned Daniel, looking at his father intently.

Ron's eyes widened. "What? Why are you thinking this?"

Daniel shrugged. "Because you two never speak to each other; because you sleep on the couch; because Mum keeps on crying; because--"

"Does Mum keep on crying?" whispered Ron, cutting him off.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, I can hear her from my bedroom."

Ron's eyes turned back to the fireplace, his expression quite upset. After all, why was he mad at Hermione? Not that she did something against him, and she surely wasn't the cause of Rachel's pregnancy. Not at all. Her only fault had been being supportive towards their daughter, something that Ron hadn't been at all during the last three months.

"Dad?" asked Daniel, snapping Ron out of his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"So? Are you going to get a divorce?"

"No, Daniel. Of course not," answered Ron.

Daniel nodded, relieved. "Why didn't Rachel come home for Christmas?"

Ron sat on the couch. "I guess because she didn't want to see me," he answered. It was clear like the sun that Daniel was very much like Hermione, much more intelligent than how Ron was at his age, so he didn't even try to lie to his son.

"And do you want to see her?" he asked calmly.

Ron looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "Is your mum the one who sent you here?" he asked suspiciously.

"No," answered Daniel. "Mum is still sleeping."

Ron nodded. "Yes," he answered slowly. "Yes, I guess I want to see her."

"Then why didn't you order her to come home for Christmas?"

Ron smiled. "Order? It's not exactly like I've ever ordered you three to do something."

Daniel waved a hand in front of him dismissively. "Daniel, tidy up your room; study; eat vegetables; have good marks at school – should I go on?"

Ron smirked. "Well, my dear little Know-It-All," he said jokingly. "It's a little bit different, isn't it?"

"No," protested Daniel.

"Yes, and I don't want to force her to do anything," pointed out Ron.

"Why?" asked Daniel, genuinely curious.

Ron lowered his eyes. The answer was there in his heart, he just had to say it out loud. He knew that he couldn't force his daughter to do anything because he loved her more than his own life. He opened the mouth to speak, but at that very moment, Malcolm entered the living room and muttered a sleepy, "Merry Christmas," to everybody.

"Merry Christmas," said Daniel cheerfully, forgetting the conversation he was having with his father.

"Merry Christmas," replied Ron to his son.

Malcolm kneeled down near the Christmas tree and started to study the presents, counting the ones that had his name on them.

"Is Mum up?" asked Ron, looking at his two children, who were currently dividing the gifts.

"I guess so," answered Malcolm distractedly. "I heard some noises from your room."

Ron pushed the blanket away and stood up. He headed for the stairs and started to climb them.

"Tell her to hurry up, Dad," said Malcolm. "I want to open my presents."

Ron nodded and kept on climbing the stairs. When he reached the second floor, he took a deep breath and started to walk towards his bedroom. The door was closed, but not locked. He stood there for several seconds before deciding that it was better if he knocked.

"Come in," came Hermione's voice from the bedroom.

Ron pushed the door open to find Hermione still in her nightgown, who was making the part of bed in which she had slept. She stopped dead when she saw Ron at the door.

"Hi," he said slowly. "Merry Christmas," he added, walking inside and closing the door behind his back.

Hermione looked at him and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Ron," she said.

"Can I sit on the bed?" he asked, looking on the perfectly made bed.

"It's your bed, you can do whatever you want," answered Hermione matter-of-factly.

Ron nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. "So, what is the program for today?" asked Ron, trying to make some conversation.

"The same as every year," answered Hermione. "We'll open the presents under the three, and then use the Floo Network to go to your parents' house for lunch and, very likely, for the whole afternoon."

"When are we going to meet your parents?"

"Tomorrow, Ron, like every year," said Hermione.

Ron nodded and, for a long time, he remained silent, without being able to start any other conversation. Hermione sighed and headed for the bathroom. "Tell Malcolm and Daniel that I'll be right down," she said slowly.

"Hermione," Ron called her.

Hermione looked at him. "Yes?"

"Daniel said that – he said that you – you cry," he whispered.

Hermione looked at him and, for a moment, she felt like she was naked. She flushed and shivered, without understanding why.

"Is that true?" he asked her slowly.

"Ron, tell them that I'll be right down, okay?" she said in a broken voice.

"Hermione, I don't want you to cry because of me," said Ron, standing up.

Hermione swallowed and bit her lips, looking everywhere but at Ron. "I'm not crying because of you," she said.

"Then why-"

"Ron, my family is going into pieces. Don't I have the right to cry?" she asked harshly.

"Hermione, your family – our family – isn't going into pieces," answered Ron slowly. He wanted to walk towards her and hug her with all his strength, make her feel that he was with her and that everything was all right, but something stopped him. If he wasn't at peace with himself and his daughter, how could he have lied to Hermione and told her that everything was all right?

Hermione nodded and walked towards the bathroom. Ron heard the lock catching and the water flowing. He sighed and mentally slapped himself for his stupidity, then exited and decided to use his sons' bathroom.

Half an hour later, they were all sitting in the living room, Daniel and Malcolm on the floor, while Ron and Hermione on two different and quite far away armchairs.

"Look, Mum, another book. 'Quidditch Through The Ages.' Must be interesting," said Daniel eagerly, leafing through his latest present.

"Another book?" asked Malcolm, throwing away his own present. "Mum, I wanted a new broomstick," he protested.

Hermione sighed. "We have already discussed that, Malcolm. You reduced your last one to such small pieces that we have not been able to find them even if we had looked for days in the garden."

"Yeah, well, I'm getting better at Quidditch, you know that?" growled Malcolm.

"Maybe for your birthday," said Hermione vaguely.

"Mum! My birthday is in June!" he protested.

"Look, Mum, there's a present for you," said Daniel, interrupting the conversation.

"Really?" asked Hermione, smiling. She took it from her son's hands and read the greeting card on it; it was from her sons. She ripped the wrapper away and looked, startled at her present. "A course for speaking French in twenty-four hours?" she said, reading the title.

"Yep," answered Malcolm eagerly. "You and Aunt Ginny always complain that Aunt Fleur says bad things about the two of you when she is speaking in French under her breath. Now you'll be able to understand what she says and you can punch her on her nose for a reason."

Hermione looked at him bewildered. "Yeah, well, thanks a lot, Malcolm, thanks, Daniel, but I don't think that I'll ever punch aunt Fleur. Anyway, I'll be happy to learn some French."

Malcolm and Daniel felt cheated. They had wanted to see a good women's fight. Ron's present from his sons was a chessboard. He looked quite happy to receive it and thanked them eagerly. He also received a new broomstick from Hermione, but Malcolm made him promise that he would let him try it first.

"There are no presents from Rachel," stated Malcolm when the last present was unwrapped.

"No, I think that Rachel is going to give her presents at The Burrow this Christmas," said Hermione, sitting up. "Just remember to pick up your presents for her," she said, heading towards the kitchen. "I'll prepare the breakfast. It'll be ready in ten minutes."

"Okay," answered Malcolm and Daniel together.

Ron looked at Hermione's figure disappearing into the kitchen. She hasn't received his present yet. He had it in his pocket, but didn't want to give it to her in front of the children; didn't want to make her cry in front of them. He sat up as well and followed her into the kitchen.

"I have something for you," he said suddenly.

Hermione turned and saw that he had placed a small envelope on the kitchen table. She looked at it and then at Ron, who smiled and headed for the living room. "Wait!" she said. "Don't you want to see me open it?" she asked shyly.

"No," he answered matter-of-factly.

She picked up the envelope and opened it. There was a small card with just three words on it: "I love you."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears and her heart started to beat frantically in her chest. "I love you, too," she whispered.

The morning passed by quite hastily. Hermione only had time to help her sons put on their clothing, wearing a red dress herself, before they all stood in front of the fireplace.

"Daniel, Malcolm, you go first," suggested Hermione.

"Okay, Mum," said Daniel, picking up the Floo Powder and stepping inside the fireplace. Malcolm disappeared into the green flames right after him.

Ron picked up some Floo Powder as well, but Hermione stopped him before he stepped inside the hearth.

"Ron, I-" she started, "I wanted to thank you."

Ron smiled softly. "For what?"

"For the present you gave me; it meant a lot to me," she said, looking into his eyes.

"It meant a lot to me, as well," said Ron.

Hermione stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Ron looked startled at her for a while, then he closed his eyes and started to kiss her back, wrapping his hands around her. When he let her go, she smiled. "We better go," she said.

"Can't we stay here for a while?" asked Ron, smiling mischievously.

"No, it's Christmas, Ron," pointed out Hermione. "We have to spend it with the people that we love."

"I love you, Hermione. Will you spend Christmas day with me?"

"Of course, but only if we go to The Burrow," she answered cleverly.

Ron smiled softly. "Okay," he sighed.

Hermione was the first one to disappear into the fireplace, followed closely by Ron. When they reached The Burrow, it was already full of people: there were Bill, Percy, Fred, George and Ginny with their families, and also Remus and Nymphadora Lupin. They were all chatting happily.

"Hermione! Ron!" cried Mrs. Weasley over the noise.

Everybody fell silent while several heads turned towards Ron.

"Ron!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley once again. "Oh, Ron!" she repeated, throwing her arms around her son's neck. Ron patted her awkwardly on her back. "Merry Christmas, Mum," he said slowly.

"Merry Christmas, merry Christmas," she said, letting Ron go and wiping away the happy tears that were flowing down her eyes.

"Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, kissing her on her cheeks. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, Molly," answered Hermione, smiling. "Where is Rachel?"

"In the kitchen, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, making her way through all the people in the living room.

"Merry Christmas, Rachel," said Hermione as soon as she entered the kitchen.

Rachel, who was cutting some carrots with a knife, turned her head towards her mum and muttered a quite dark, "Merry Christmas, Mum."

"Is everything all right?" asked Hermione, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Perfect," answered Rachel, piercing a carrot with great ferocity.

"Are you sure?" Hermione responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she said between gritted teeth.

"Have you heard from Emeric?" Hermione posed, trying to change the subject.

Rachel nodded. "He sent me a present this morning," she said curtly.

"Can I see it?" requested Hermione, smiling.

Rachel looked at her, then she showed Hermione her hand, where a tiny silver bracelet shone on her wrist. Her mother looked it intently. There were little snakes and some green stones.

"Nice," she said, in a high tone of voice. "Seems very – very-"

"Very Slytherin-ish?" asked Rachel harshly.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, he is a Slytherin. What did you expect?" she asked quite rudely.

"Hey, I said it's nice," protested Hermione. "What's wrong with you, Rachel? What is the reason for your anger?"

"The reason of my anger?" she asked sharply. "I'm not angry."

"I would rather say the contrary," stated Hermione.

Rachel opened her mouth to reply, but the kitchen door burst open and Ron entered, walking quickly, followed by Fleur.

Hermione and Rachel looked at them and Ron stopped dead when he caught sight of his daughter. Hermione thought that she would have never seen the day in which Ron walked with Fleur willingly.

Fleur smiled. "Come on, Ron," she said, pushing him towards Rachel.

Ron's eyes met Rachel's, but she looked away too quickly, before he could say anything.

"Merry Christmas, Rachel," said Ron quite stiffly.

Rachel didn't answer, but started to cut the carrots with even more force than before.

Fleur looked surprised. "Rachel? Your father told you something," she interfered.

"I know," answered Rachel darkly. "I heard him."

"Should you say anything back to 'im?" asked Aunt Fleur.

"No," she snapped.

Hermione looked at her. "Rachel, it's Christmas, you should-"

"What should I do, Mum?" asked Rachel, cutting her off. "Just tell me, what should I do? Tell him 'Merry Christmas'? Well, that would be a lie, because I wish that his Christmas would be like hell," she snapped, breathing heavily.

"Rachel, what-"

"Never mind, Hermione," said Ron harshly. "Rachel, I came here to tell you that I forgive you about-"

"Forgive me?" screamed Rachel, throwing the knife into the kitchen sink. "Forgive me? I am the one that should forgive you!"

Everybody looked at Rachel, who was red from her anger and screams.

"And?" asked Ron coolly.

"And what?" asked Rachel angrily. She was sure that if she wasn't pregnant, her father would have already screamed at her to go upstairs and stay in her room all day.

"And are you going to forgive me?" asked Ron simply.

Rachel had to lean on the sink to maintain her balance. Was she understanding correctly? Had her father just asked her to forgive him?

She wanted to say, "Yes, of course," and run towards him. However, she screamed, "No!" Rachel was not yet ready to forgive him so easily, still wanting to prove to him what a big hypocrite he was.

"Why not?" asked Ron.

"Why not? You have not spoken to me for two months and you are asking me why I can't forgive you? You filthy hypocrite!" She screamed so loudly that they heard the people in the living room get quiet.

"Hypocrite?" asked Ron uneasily.

Rachel nodded. "Hypocrite," she said, lowering her voice.

"Why?" he asked. "I've never-" but he stopped dead.

"You've never –what?" asked Rachel mockingly. "Never had sex before you married Mum? Is that what you are saying? Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," said Ron hastily.

Rachel seemed ready to explode any minute. "When you married Mum, she was already pregnant," she screamed. "That's why you married her a year earlier than you had planned."

Ron looked at her, his expression as cold as stone. Hermione had her eyes opened wide and had brought her hands to her mouth. Fleur felt totally out of place and started to walk noiselessly towards the door.

"How did you find out?" asked Ron flatly.

"None of your business," answered Rachel darkly.

"How did you find out?" repeated Ron in a tone that made her understand that she was going too far.

"I heard Aunt Fleur telling Uncle Bill last night," said Rachel slowly.

Ron turned his head towards Fleur, who already had her hand on the door handle.

"How dare you speak about things that are none of your business?" he hissed.

Fleur looked at him, astonished. Ron had never talked to her in that way. On the contrary, he was the one that had always defended her in front of everybody else.

"I-I was talking to Bill. I didn't know that she was listening," she stammered uneasily.

"Well, talk to Bill about something else next time," snapped Ron.

Fleur recovered from her shock and her eyes narrowed. "How dare you?" she cried. "I can speak with my husband about whatever I want! And you really are an 'ypocrite, if you want to know."

"As I've already said, it's none of your business," muttered Ron.

Fleur looked as if Ron had just slapped her. What was he saying? Rachel was her niece, of course it was her business. She glared at Ron and started to yell at him in French. She opened the door of the kitchen and slammed it behind herself, her shouts still clearly audible even if she was in the living room.

Ron stared at the door for a long moment before Rachel's voice brought him back to reality.

"You have always told me that I was too young, that I wasn't married yet," she said, crying, "and look at you. You and Mum married at the age of twenty because Mum was already expecting me. It doesn't make a big difference."

"It makes all the difference in the world," snapped Ron. "Your mother and I were already out of school and we were already engaged."

"Oh yes, so as soon as you are engaged to someone and out of school, you can do whatever you want, right?" she asked while tears fell down her cheeks. She had to keep on crying, because if she stopped, she was sure that her father would have slapped her for what she was saying.

"We were adults. You are only sixteen years old," snapped Ron.

"I'll turn seventeen next February, isn't that enough? When my child will be born I'll be an adult," she shrieked.

"But now, you are not an adult, you are still-" Ron looked at the floor of the kitchen and lowered his voice, "-my child."

Rachel looked at him frustrated. If her father would have yelled it would have been easier for her to make him feel horrible, but now she couldn't shout at him anymore. In some way, he was asking for her mercy.

She looked at him, even angrier than before because he had ruined her plan to get the revenge she deserved on him. She bit her bottom lip and started to cry. Both Ron and Hermione looked at her, concerned. Ron took a step towards her and stretched out his arms to hug her, but she shoved him away rudely. "No!" she shrieked, crying and running out of the kitchen.

Ron and Hermione heard her storming away and climbing up the stairs and everybody heard the door of her bedroom slamming, even if it was the bedroom at the top of the house.


	17. Cold

Disclaimer: Guess what? Not even Pansy and Draco belong to me, but Emeric does…

A/N: Well, after the Weasley—ladies and gentlemen—the Malfoys! Anyway, I would definitely say that we are starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel… Enjoy and the title… well, I couldn't come up with nothing better… Bloody hell! I named tons of chapters, I'm running out of ideas!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter.

**Cold**

It was early morning Boxing Day and Malfoy Manor was dipped into silence. Emeric turned in his bed and glanced out of the window of his bedroom. The snow that had fallen the previous day was covering all the grounds around the mansion, and the small pond at the bottom of the garden was frozen.

Emeric heard a tiny 'pop' and a short creature Apparated into his bedroom and bowed deeply in front of him. His skin was brown and his ears huge, while his nose was crushed into his face.

"Dinky has to wake up Mr. Emeric, sir," squealed the house-elf.

Emeric shot him a nasty look. "Why?" he asked sleepily.

"Because his father wants to see him, sir," Dinky said, bowing again.

Emeric rolled his eyes. "Tell him that I don't want to see him," he snapped and rolled to the other side of the double bed, pretending to sleep.

"Mr. Emeric has to go and see him or else his father will come upstairs himself and bring him down by his ears," cried Dinky.

Emeric snorted. "Tell him that I'm coming," he said, pulling the blankets away.

The house-elf nodded and with another 'pop,' he Disapparated.

Emeric stared for a while at the place where Dinky has just been, then the sound of footsteps outside his door snapped him out of his thoughts. His mother was going downstairs for breakfast.

He got up and walked towards the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and yawned loudly. He had been up till four in the morning, waiting for something from Rachel; a present, a letter, a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Anything was fine with him, as long as it came from her.

He took a quick cold shower and dressed. When he walked out of his bedroom, the only noise audible was his mother's voice giving orders to Dinky. He climbed down the stairs slowly, not too keen to talk to his father. It had been almost four days that he was home and Draco had not yet spoken to him. On Christmas day, Grandmother Narcissa had joined them for lunch and the day passed with no drama, except for a little fight Narcissa had with Pansy about the baby. Narcissa supported Draco in his stand against Emeric and that Weasley girl, something that caused Draco to smirk all through lunch.

Emeric opened the big door that led to the living room and stepped inside. His father was sitting on an armchair in front of a round table with an envelope and a package placed in front of him. When Draco spotted his son, he gestured at him haughtily to enter.

Emeric stepped inside.

"And close the door," added Draco.

Emeric looked at him nervously. He hoped that his father didn't use any spell to lock them inside because he would be happy to have a way out if things started to get bad. In any event, he closed the door behind himself.

"Sit down," said Draco.

Emeric sat on an armchair quite uneasily, ready to jump on his feet as quickly as the situation required.

"I happened to find this letter last night," said Draco, nodding towards the letter.

Emeric glanced at the envelope and paid attention to the name written in a familiar script; it was Rachel's handwriting.

"Is it for me?" asked Emeric almost rhetorically.

"There's your name on it," said Draco.

Emeric stretched out an arm to take it, but Draco seized the envelope before him. Emeric noticed that his father has already opened it as he took out a letter.

"Have you opened it?" he asked, feeling his temper rising.

Draco glared at him. "Don't you dare talk to me like that," he said calmly.

Emeric swallowed. "Have you opened it?" he repeated more calmly.

"I think that I have the right to know who's sending you post, don't you think?"

Naturally, Emeric didn't think so, but he just nodded darkly.

"So, let's see what our lovely Miss Weasley wrote to you," said Draco, opening the letter and reading it out loud. "'Dear Emeric, I'm so glad that you are fine. I was starting to worry about you, since in three days I didn't receive anything. I miss you so much. I think I would die if you don't answer to me soon. I don't think that I'll be able to stand another week without seeing you and-'"

"Stop!" cried Emeric, jumping on his feet.

Draco turned towards him and smirked. "What?" he asked amused.

"Stop it! Stop reading my letter," said Emeric slowly, blushing furiously because of his anger and embarrassment.

"I've already read it," pointed out Draco.

"You had no right," said Emeric.

"I'm your father and I have all the right in this world," exclaimed Draco.

"No, you don't. Now, give my letter back to me," snapped Emeric, stretching out an arm towards his father.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Not before I've reached the point that I want," he said, glancing through the letter. "Oh, here we are." He cleared his throat. "'The present that you sent me is wonderful. I've never received anything so precious. I love the contrast between the silver snakes and the emeralds.'" Draco glared at Emeric. "What did you send her?" he asked rudely.

Emeric bit his bottom lip. "None of your business," he muttered.

"You know that you are playing with fire, boy, don't you? Be careful not to burn yourself," hissed Draco.

Emeric lowered his eyes and nodded slightly. "I've sent her a bracelet."

"Which kind of bracelet?"

"Mother gave it to me," he said uneasily. "She said that it was quite old and very precious. I wanted to give Rachel something special."

Draco rolled his eyes instinctively. "So you gave her a piece of your mother's jewellery," he stated.

Emeric nodded.

"What was going through your mind? She isn't a part of the family," growled Draco.

"She'll be very soon," exclaimed Emeric.

"Not if I can prevent that," Draco hissed.

Emeric paled. "W-what do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean that unlike you and you mother, I'm not keen to mix up my blood with that of the Weasleys," answered Draco.

"You are not going to-" Emeric's voice failed as he thought of what his father could have done to his unborn child.

"To what, Emeric? I'm always open to new suggestions," said Draco, smirking.

Emeric's white face turned green.

"Oh, yes, and Miss Weasley sent you also a pack of Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. I guess that they are from that stupid shop run by the Weasley twins in Diagon Alley," he added.

Emeric didn't answer nor did he move.

"Anyway, Emeric, I forbid you to write back to her. I forbid you to receive any other letters from her and above all, I forbid you to send her anything else that belongs to our family," stated Draco firmly.

"But she said that she would die if she doesn't hear from me," said Emeric.

Draco snorted. "Since I don't really think that she'll die just because she doesn't see you, I wouldn't worry too much if I were you."

Emeric wanted to throw himself at his father and tear the letter from his hands, but he couldn't move, he couldn't even scream.

"You are taking it well, Emeric. I'm happy about that," said Draco, smiling.

His smile faded away when Emeric collapsed in an armchair and looked at him with an upset face. "I love her, Father," he whispered. "If she or my child dies, I don't think that I'll be able to survive."

Draco looked at him while a shadow of concern darkened his face. "You'll be able to survive," he said rudely. "You'll survive and be even happier than you are now."

"I'm happy now," muttered Emeric. "I don't think that I've ever been happier."

Draco stared at him for a long moment before coming back to reality. "You don't know what you are talking about," he growled. "Not at all! You are too young to have a child. A child is a great effort, too great for two young teenagers like you and that girl."

"I don't care," said Emeric flatly. "I just want to see my baby born and want to see him growing, as you did with me."

Draco stood up quickly from the armchair and moved towards the fireplace. "I had time to take care of you, but you and that girl will have to work to maintain the baby."

"Aren't you going to help me?" asked Emeric in a bare whisper.

Draco's eyes widened for a second at Emeric's heartbreaking voice. Was he going to lose his son in his fight for blood purity? He tried hard to convince himself that he wasn't because his son would thank him when he will be older.

"No, I'm not going to help you if you keep on seeing that girl," stated Draco, trying to cover up the uncertainty in his voice. He ripped Rachel's letter and threw it into the fire.

Emeric let out a small yell and buried his head in his hands.

"Stop behaving like this," hissed Draco. "It doesn't suit a Malfoy."

Emeric glared at him. "I'm sick and tired of being a Malfoy if I can't love whomever I want," he said, his voice rising gradually. "I swear, if Rachel or my baby will be hurt in any way, I'll kill myself," he said resolutely.

Draco looked at him, taken aback by his determination. "You won't waste your life for a Weasley," he whispered.

"If that Weasley is Rachel, I will," Emeric said.

"You don't even know what you are saying. You are confused. You can't have feelings for her. It's just – just a crush," said Draco, trying to convince both himself and Emeric.

"No, it's not," stated Emeric.

"How do you know?" Draco hissed.

"Try me. Harm Rachel or my child and I'll show you how interested I am in living life without them," said Emeric, sitting up and walking towards the door. Draco looked helplessly at him while Emeric exited and headed for his room.

Draco turned and faced the fireplace. He threw a fist at the cold stone of the wall and cursed under his breath. His faith in his dark plans was faltering. He had never seen his son so determined to do something. He was proud of him, but the fact that he was determined to do something against him wasn't very reassuring.

He was too deep in thought to notice that someone had entered the living room and came up to him. He became aware of the other presence in the room when an arm encircled his waist and another moved away his hair.

Pansy leaned her lips to his ear. "Are you still going to harm your grandson and daughter-in-law?"

Draco freed himself from her grip and turned to face her. "Since when do you eavesdrop on my conversations?" asked Draco, raising his eyebrows.

"Since the day that you started controlling Emeric," she answered cleverly.

Draco glared at her. "There's no grandson and there'll never be, and she isn't our daughter-in-law."

Pansy sighed. "Not even your son's threat about killing himself will restrain you from harming the baby and its mother?"

Draco looked away, too ashamed to admit that he was starting to change his mind. Pansy placed a hand on his cheek and made him look at her.

"Look into my eyes and tell me that you want to kill your son's child," she stated.

Draco shoved her hand away and looked at the floor. "I don't want to kill my son, that's all I'm worried about," he whispered.

"You know that you'll kill him if you harm his baby, don't you?" asked Pansy seriously.

"I'll keep him under strict supervision. I won't let him do anything inconsiderate," muttered Draco.

Pansy smiled, recognizing some fear in Draco's voice. "If he doesn't kill himself, he'll be dead in any case. Inside his heart, there'll be nothing left."

"He'll b-become a real Malfoy, then," stammered Draco.

"You aren't like that," she said, placing a hand on his heart. "Your heart beats for me and for Emeric, and if you want, you can make it beat for that baby, too."

Draco looked at her miserably. Pansy stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on his lips, then she hugged him, placing her head on his chest. Draco hugged her back, while he leaned his head on hers and sighed.


	18. Not Alone

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, and most importantly, I'm not making money out of this.

A/N: So, I'm really happy that you are enjoying this story. I know that my updates are a bit slowed down sometimes, but I'll keep updating this story until the very last chapter. Don't worry for that. About Draco… eh, eh… You'll see. Enjoy this chapter!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter. You did a great job, as always.

**Not Alone**

The remainder of Christmas break passed by terribly slowly and miserably for both Rachel and Emeric.

Rachel woke up every day to study during the morning. Her annoying French cousins left the Burrow for Egypt two days after Christmas, so her grandparents' house was a very good place for studying, since Grandma Molly spent all the day in the kitchen and Grandpa Arthur was in the garden, trying to get rid of some gnomes. In the afternoon, there was always someone that came to visit her. Once it was her mother with her brothers, once her cousins, once her uncles, and once her aunts.

But her father never showed up. Not that she was unhappy about that, but she felt something at the bottom of her heart that she couldn't explain. She felt awfully bad for how she had treated him on Christmas day. He had asked her to forgive him, but she was too blinded with her vindictive anger to pardon him. And now she felt like a cruel daughter that had just signed a contract to not see her father anymore nor to be happy anymore. She wasn't even eating very much, and her grandma was always worried about her. Molly said that she was slowly 'wearing herself out', but instead of being understanding, for the first time, Mrs. Weasley found herself screaming at her granddaughter, telling her that she was selfish, because she had to think about her baby, who surely wasn't getting anything good from Rachel's behaviour.

However, Rachel couldn't help herself from feeling miserable all the time. When she wasn't studying and when there was nobody to see her, she sat in front of the window, waiting for an owl. But Emeric didn't send her anything after the Christmas gift, and she wasn't even sure that he had received her present. She felt alone, a feeling she had never felt.

Emeric too was feeling the oppression of loneliness, but being accustomed to it, it wasn't a big weight on his shoulders. The only person with whom he had a decent conversation was his mother, who went into his room every day. Then there were the house-elves, but he didn't consider their company very interesting. His father had not called him anymore, nor had he seemed interested in talking with him. Emeric was sure that he had impressed him, because Draco's face was shocked when he left the living room, and he was positive that his father didn't want to see him because he was too afraid to lose his calm in front of his son. But he couldn't enjoy his temporary victory against him because he was too worried about Rachel. He hadn't sent her anything after Christmas day and hadn't received anything from her as well. Though he thought, as his father did, that she wouldn't die simply because she wasn't able to see him, he couldn't help feeling terribly bad for her, and for himself, as well. The rest of the Christmas holidays passed so slowly that they seemed to last for years instead of a few days.

On the day of their leaving for school, Rachel was brought to Platform 9 ¾ by Hermione, who happened to be free from work that very day. Firstly, though, they had to collect all her other cousins that should have gone to Hogwarts that very day.

"Rachel, hurry up, you don't want to miss the train, do you?" asked Hermione, hastily walking towards the barrier.

Rachel sighed. She looked around one more time and started to walk towards the barrier as well. On Platform 9 ¾, people were agitated; students ran up and down the platform, and trunks were being shoved into carts.

"Rachel, this way!" cried Allyson above the crowd's shrieks. She stretched out an arm towards Rachel and she took it, letting her cousin guide her into the first free carriage.

"Lots of people, aren't there?" asked Allyson, pushing her way through a group of first-year Hufflepuffs that stopped in front of her.

"Like every year," answered Rachel flatly.

"Yeah, well, let's find a compartment," said Allyson.

"I'm a prefect, I have to patrol the train," Rachel reminded her.

"Oh, right," she said, sounding upset. "Well, I'll sit here. When you are over with your duties, come and rest a little bit."

Rachel gave her a tiny smile. "I will," she said, disappearing from Allyson's sight.

She walked up all the train till the prefect carriage, looking around her, desperately searching for Emeric. Little did she know that he was doing the same thing on the opposite part of the train.

Her eyes flashed with joy when she finally spotted him walking towards her. He rudely pushed away two Slytherin girls that stood exactly between him and Rachel and hugged her tightly. Without saying a word, she hugged him back.

Lots of boys passed by and pretended to feel sick while looking at the embracing couple. Finally, they let each other go and Emeric saw that Rachel's cheeks were marred with tears.

"Hey," he whispered, wiping away her tears and smiling.

She smiled back weakly, placed a hand on his and kissed it. "I'm so happy to see you," she muttered. "I felt so lonely without you."

"I'm happy to see you too. And you shouldn't have felt lonely. I'm with you, you aren't alone," he answered. Then he looked at her intently. "What's wrong? Haven't you felt well?"

"Why?" she asked, sniffling.

"Because you look paler than usual and you seem thinner," he said.

"No, I'm fine," she said hastily. "What about you?"

"I'm fine and still in love with you," he said sweetly, kissing her on her lips, "but don't change the subject. You look pale and ill."

"I'm not," she said. "I was just getting more and more worried with each passing day."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't send me anything, apart from the Christmas gift. Did you receive my letter?"

"I kind of," he answered darkly.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"Well, I received it, but never got the chance to read it. My father burned it and forbid me to write to you," he said bitterly.

Rachel sighed. "Is he still in a bad mood?"

Emeric looked at her. "I don't know. Let's just say that the only time that I talked to him, I left him upset," he said, grinning.

"Why?" she asked concerned.

"Because I showed him how determined I am to be with you," he stated.

Rachel smiled.

"What about your father? Have you made up with him?" he asked, interested.

Rachel looked out of the window as the train ran through the English snowy landscape. "Not exactly," she said vaguely.

"What do you mean?"

"We had a row. Another one," she corrected, looking at Emeric. "And this time, I think that it's all my fault."

"Really?" he asked, puzzled. "Why?"

She took a deep breath and started to tell him exactly how things went on Christmas day at The Burrow. He listened to her intently, and at the end, she asked for his opinion.

"Well, I think that you have been a little harsh towards him," he said slowly.

"Really?" she asked frantically.

"Just a little bit, Rachel," he said slowly. "Maybe you should send him something, a letter or stuff like that, telling him that you are sorry."

Rachel nodded. "The fact is that I don't know if I'm exactly sorry," she said, blushing.

"You are," said Emeric knowingly. "And how is my baby doing?" he asked, placing a hand on her belly and rubbing it gently.

"She's fine," answered Rachel, stressing the word 'she'.

"She?" asked Emeric.

"My Aunt Fleur said that it's a she," stated Rachel, placing her hand on her belly too, right above Emeric's.

"And she works at St. Mungo's?" asked Emeric sarcastically.

"Not exactly, but she said she was sure that she is a girl," said Rachel, smiling.

"Okay, whatever, but I'd rather wait for the exam in February," said Emeric.

Rachel agreed. "Shall we go into the prefects' carriage and meet the others?"

"Yes," said Emeric, taking her hand and guiding her towards the carriage.

The other prefects had already patrolled the train. Both the Slytherin girl and the Gryffindor boy prefects complained because their partners were missing. Therefore, Emeric and Rachel spent the rest of the trip alone in a compartment, cuddling each other.

They reached Hogwarts later that afternoon. Emeric walked Rachel to her common room and left her with a long passionate kiss that all the girls passing by envied. Then they parted, as he headed for the Slytherin common room with a relieved sensation of being back at home.

His pleasant walk to his room was interrupted when he bumped into somebody at one corner of the hallway.

"Ouch," she said, falling on the floor. "Why don't you watch where you are going?" she snapped.

"Sorry," said Emeric quickly. "Did I hurt – Sybella?" he exclaimed.

She glared at him. "Walking without looking, are we?" she asked, getting on her feet.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"What do you think? I've attended this school for six years," she answered mockingly.

"Yeah, well, I didn't see you on the train," he said seriously.

"I don't think that it's really any of your business," she replied, starting to walk away.

"Wait," he called after her. "You didn't go home for Christmas, did you?"

"As I've already said, none of your business; anyway, no, I didn't go home," she snapped.

"Why?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. "As if I would tell you," she snapped.

"Maybe your parents don't want you at home anymore," he said, mimicking Sybella's previous tone.

She stopped to face him, red with anger. "For your information, I was the one who chose to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, even if my parents begged me to go home," she yelled.

"Really? And what did you stay for?" Emeric asked, interested.

"I had things to do," Sybella answered, lowering her voice and looking around nervously.

"Things like?" he asked, walking into the portrait hole of the Slytherin common room.

"Emeric! For Merlin's beard, none of your business!" she shrieked, storming away.

He looked at her disappearing up the stairs that led to the girls' dorm and didn't even think about following her up.

In any event, Emeric thought that she looked pale, as well, paler than when he last saw her before Christmas, and her eyes were red from sleep deprivation. He didn't like that she was up to something, but he felt encouraged by the fact that she didn't look happy at all, as if whatever she was doing wasn't going very well. That's why he didn't feel too troubled when he went to bed that evening.


	19. Hogsmeade Trip and Zonko’s Tricks

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for all those characters you don't recognize anywhere else.

A/N: So sorry for the delay, real life issues suck. Anyway, here you are, a new chapter of this fic. I really hope that you'll like it, it's not like a lot happens, sorry about that. I assure you more action in the future chapters. By the way, I always have issues on portraying Fred and George, so I hope I did it alright… Let me know if they are in character, and enjoy this chapter.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for your help, sweetie.

**Hogsmeade Trip and Zonko's Tricks**

Emeric looked at Professor Slughorn through the steam coming from his cauldron as the professor staggered among the desks and looked at every student's potion intently. The youngest Malfoy noticed that he gave a broad smile when he peeked inside Rachel's cauldron and he heard him giving ten points to Gryffindor.

"Well, well, well," said Slughorn, looking into Emeric's cauldron. "Emeric, what do we have here?"

Emeric looked at the potion that he was making and saw that it was a bright orange colour, not exactly the pale green that the book showed.

Slughorn shook his head. "Are you in love, Emeric?" asked Slughorn unexpectedly.

"W-why?" he asked.

"Because you are very distracted, boy," stated Slughorn, walking away with a smile.

Emeric blushed furiously and Rachel flushed too, staring at her potion in order to ignore all the students that were giggling in her direction.

Slughorn sat back to his chair and waved his hand lazily. "Class dismissed," he said slowly. "I want an essay on the potion that we have just brewed on my desk next Monday."

There were loud noises of chairs and chats while the sixth-year students collected their things and moved out of the classroom.

Rachel reached Emeric at the door and they walked to the Great Hall together.

"What were you thinking?" asked Rachel.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"When Slughorn said all those things, what were you doing?" she asked, passing by a group of first years.

"I was thinking of you," he said, flushing red. "And at the fact that your potion is always the best in the entire classroom. How do you do that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm a genius," she said jokingly.

"Yeah, well, let's wait another couple of months and then we'll see how you'll be able to brew a potion without be able to reach the table," he said, smirking.

She raised an eyebrows. "I bet that I'll be always better than you," she replied teasingly.

"Yeah, in your dreams," he answered sarcastically.

"Well, we'll see," she answered. "Anyway, when is the next Hogsmeade trip?"

"This weekend," he answered, suddenly excited. "We are going, aren't we?"

"Why shouldn't we?" she asked, confused.

"Because last time, you made me stay here," he stated.

"Last time we had something to do," she pointed out. "And I didn't force you. I proposed that we should stay here and you agreed."

"You were crying; how could I not accept?" he argued.

"So, when I'm crying, you'll do everything for me?" she asked, smirking.

He looked at her. "I just don't like to see you cry," he said slowly.

She smiled, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him right in front of the Great Hall. Then she headed for the Gryffindor table.

"Rachel!" Alexis called her as the other girl sat across from Allyson. "Rachel! Are you coming to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Rachel nodded and helped herself to some potatoes. "Yes, why shouldn't I come?"

"Because last time you didn't come," stated Alexis.

Rachel snorted. "As I've already reminded Emeric, I had something to do."

"Okay, listen, my dad and Uncle Fred asked me to invite you to Zonko's and to bring Emeric with you," said Alexis.

"Why?" she asked, concerned.

Alexis shrugged her shoulders. "Because they want to meet him, I guess."

"I think that they have already met him because he used to go to Zonko's very often," she stated.

"Hey, they just want to meet him properly," said Alexis defensively. "I think that they want to know the boy whose child their little niece is having."

Rachel nodded awkwardly. "Okay, we'll pay a visit to Zonko's then."

"Good girl," said Alexis jokingly and walked away.

"They never invite me," complained Allyson when Alexis was out of earshot.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "You don't need to be invited to their shop, Allyson," Rachel pointed out.

"It would have been nice, for once," she said.

"Allyson, you are talking nonsense. You can go to Zonko's whenever you want," said Rachel logically.

"Yeah, but I wanted to be invited," she protested.

"You can come with me if you want," said Rachel calmly.

"With you and your boyfriend?" she asked, horrified. "No thanks!"

"Well, then just stop talking. I'm trying to eat," she said slowly.

"Okay, sorry," mumbled Allyson.

Rachel nodded and started to eat with newfound appetite after the days spent at home without Emeric.

The week passed by quite normally, except for a small visit on Friday afternoon to Madam Pomfrey, who had insisted on making a complete check-up on her since she hadn't seen Rachel in a long time. Emeric had insisted on going with her.

"Everything seems all right," said Madam Pomfrey after examining her.

"Isn't she a little bit pale?" asked Emeric.

Madam Pomfrey looked intently at Rachel. "Just a little bit, but it's normal. Nothing you should get scared about."

"Shouldn't you give her something?"

"No, Rachel, you just have to eat. Are you eating, dear?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but Emeric preceded her. "She has, Madam Pomfrey, but she didn't eat too much when she was at home, during the Christmas holidays."

"I can speak for myself," snapped Rachel.

"Well, are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" asked Madam Pomfrey, ignoring her.

"Yes, why? Shouldn't I?" asked Rachel, concerned.

"Oh, no! On the contrary, it's a great thing. You definitely have to go there and get a breath of fresh air. You're studying to much, aren't you?"

"Yes, she is. She keeps on studying all day," answered Emeric.

Rachel glared at him.

"Well, Rachel, you shouldn't. I want you to rest a little bit. Think of your baby," said Madam Pomfrey.

"It's what I always tell her," said Emeric knowingly.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at him.

Rachel cleared her throat. "Can I say something?" she asked, a little bit more rudely that she had intended.

"Yes, Rachel dear," replied Madam Pomfrey.

"Madam Pomfrey, in October, you said that I would have been able to know the gender of the baby in January or February. I was wondering if today we could see it," said Rachel, trying hard to contain her excitement.

Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on Rachel's stomach and felt the baby through her skin. "I don't know, it does look like he, or she, is big enough for knowing, but he, or she, seems to be in wrong position."

"Wrong position?" asked Emeric and Rachel at once, alarmed.

Madam Pomfrey waved a hand in front of them. "I meant that the baby seems to be in wrong position to discover the gender. I'm sure that in a month, you'll be able to find out and you'll also be more sure."

Rachel and Emeric nodded, a little bit confused. "Okay, thank you, Madam Pomfrey," said Emeric.

"Yes, thank you," echoed Rachel.

"You are welcome," answered Madam Pomfrey. "Now I think you can go."

Rachel pulled down her shirt and exited the hospital wing, followed by Emeric.

"Another month without knowing if it's a boy or a girl," sighed Rachel.

"Well, we have waited for almost four months, what is another one?"

"I was just curious," she said, shrugging. "Aren't you curious?"

"Yes, I am, but at this very moment I'm more concerned about tomorrow than about the gender of the baby," he answered slowly.

"You don't have to worry about that – yet," she said.

"Yeah, well, I'm preparing myself psychologically," he muttered.

"You were calmer when we had to go to my grandparents' house for lunch in November," she pointed out.

"Because your grandma was nice. I've seen your uncles working in the shop. They once screamed at a little girl just because she didn't give them the right amount of money," he said.

"They just screamed at her, didn't do anything else, though," stated Rachel. "So, don't worry about them. I'll be with you, after all."

"Thank you," he growled.

"You are welcome."

The next day, all the students from third year on were ready to leave the castle for the village of Hogsmeade. Professor McGonagall, as usual, had warned them to behave properly, giving a long, meaningful look at the Slytherins.

"Emeric, will you hurry up?" asked Rachel, pulling on the sleeve of his coat. "I don't want to stay here all day."

Emeric looked at her. "Okay, but aren't you noticing anything strange?"

"Nope," she said, shaking her head and finally starting to walk towards the Hogwarts castle with Emeric by her side.

"Sybella isn't here," he said.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, no, please, Emeric, I thought that you were over that," she said, frustrated.

"Did you know that she hadn't gone home for the Christmas holidays?" he asked, ignoring her.

"Yes, you told me five times this week," she answered.

"Well, it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, very dodgy," she answered sarcastically.

"I can't believe that you aren't concerned at all," he snapped. "She is evil."

"Yeah, well, we don't know what she's up to, Emeric. Why should we waste our time? It's better if we-"

"Stop it. I already know what you are trying to say."

"Then why don't you-"

"Because I can't get her out of my mind," he answered curtly.

"I don't think that you should tell your girlfriend that you can't get another girl out of your mind," said Rachel sarcastically.

Emeric snorted. "Let's go to Zonko's, okay?" he asked rudely, seizing her hand and guiding her between the shops of Hogsmeade.

When they reached Zonko's, there was already a big crowd of students in front of the door.

"We'll never get inside," sighed Emeric.

"This way," muttered Rachel, dragging him to the other side of the building, towards a door. She pushed it open and they walked inside.

"What is this place?" asked Emeric, looking at the tall shelves full of goods.

"Zonko's warehouse," she answered matter-of-factly, "where my uncles keep all the supplies."

"Ah, I thought I had heard something," said a tall red-haired man behind Rachel.

She turned and smiled. "Hi, Uncle Fred," she said.

"Hi, Rachel," Fred answered. "And you must be Emeric, right?" he asked, stretching out a hand in Emeric's direction.

Emeric shook it. "Yes, sir," he answered.

Fred studied Emeric's face for a long time. "Blond hair, pale skin, no mistakes, you are indeed the son of Draco Malfoy," he said, letting him go.

Emeric nodded.

"Come on, guys, let's go to the front shop. George is impatient to meet you," said Fred, guiding them towards a door that led to the real shop. "George! Look who's here," Fred called him over.

George's eyes fell on Rachel and he smiled. "Rachel, how are you?" he asked her.

"Fine, Uncle George," she answered.

George was already looking at Emeric and ignoring Rachel. "I guess you are the Malfoy boy," he said quite coolly.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," said Emeric, stretching out a hand towards George. George didn't take it and Emeric lowered his arm, blushing.

"So, you are the son of Draco Malfoy. The Death Eater," stated George, placing some fireworks on the shelves.

Emeric turned green. "My father isn't a Death Eater anymore," he said.

"Yeah, well, one never stops being a Death Eater," replied George dryly.

"My father despises the Death Eaters," said Emeric curtly.

"Oh, well, then everything is all right," said George sarcastically.

Rachel cleared her throat. "If you have invited us to insult my boyfriend, we can also go," she snapped.

George smiled. "No, sorry, Rachel," he said sheepishly.

"I'm not the one to whom you have to say sorry, Uncle George," she said calmly.

"Sorry, Emeric," said George hastily.

Emeric simply nodded.

"Come on, choose something," said Fred, gesturing towards the shelves.

"What?" asked Emeric, confused.

"The boy is a little bit slow," said George, smiling.

"I don't think so, George. Look at our niece's belly," joked Fred.

"Right," said George.

Both Emeric and Rachel blushed.

"Come on, Emeric, choose something," repeated Fred.

"W-Why?" he stammered.

George turned towards Rachel. "Are you sure that the baby is his?" Rachel glared at her uncle. "Because we want to make you a gift. But don't go tell Ron; we never gave him free things," said George, smiling.

"Don't worry, I usually don't speak with him very much," muttered Emeric.

"What? You don't speak with your father-in-law?" asked Fred, laughing.

"Stop teasing him," snapped Rachel.

Fred smiled. "Okay, now choose something before the shop closes."

Emeric looked around himself like a child on Christmas morning. "Can I? Really?" he asked slowly.

"Of course," said Fred, amused.

"But I can't accept," said Emeric.

"Dammit, Emeric! Choose something quickly! I want to go to the Three Broomsticks," snapped Rachel, leaning on the bench.

He nodded and started to walk slowly around the shop, pushing his way between the other small students. He came back to where the Weasley twins were and placed all the things on the bench.

"Let me see," said George, bending down to inspect the goods. "Extendable Ears, a Portable Swamp and Smart-Answer Quills," he enumerated.

"Smart-Answer Quills?" inquired Rachel. "What do you need that for?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Leave him alone, Rachel. Our Quills are the best ones that you can find in all of Britain," boasted Fred.

Rachel snorted. "Have you finished?"

"Yep," he answered, as George placed everything into a bag and handed it to Emeric.

"Come back soon," said Fred eagerly.

"Of course I will," said Emeric, smiling.

"See you, Emeric," said George.

Rachel and Emeric bid them goodbye and exited the shop.

"Your uncles are great," said Emeric, smiling broadly.

"Yeah, well, Uncle George could have also avoided all those allusions," she said annoyed.

Emeric shrugged. "Never mind that. He said that he was sorry, and they gave me all those things," he said, nodding towards the bag.

"Great," muttered Rachel.

Emeric sighed. "Shall we pay a visit to the Three Broomsticks, then?" he asked.

"Of course, I'm freezing," she said, placing her cold hands on his cheeks.

He pushed her away jokingly. "Okay, I think I got the point. Give me your hands. I'll warm them up until we get there."

She gave him a little smile and they walked, holding hands, towards Madam Rosmerta's pub, wanting nothing more than a hot Butterbeer and a nice session of snogging in front of the fire.


	20. Poison

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Well, I've just noticed, re-reading this, that the Herbology lesson lasts very little… Oh well, imagined that Madam Pomfrey took hours to take out the thorns from Su's arm, okay?

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks for beta-reading this. You are a wonderful beta-reader.

**Poison**

Rachel hadn't asked Emeric what he chose the Extendable Ears for at Zonko's, but it took her very little to find out. He was using them every time he spotted Sybella walking into a deserted bathroom or classroom. He was becoming obsessive towards her in an insane way, or, at least, this was what Rachel thought. Emeric, on the contrary, knew that he was just doing all he could for Rachel and the baby.

"He's always after that girl," growled Rachel to her cousin.

"Uh-oh. Are we jealous?" asked Allyson teasingly as she was finishing her essay in the Gryffindor common room.

"No," said Rachel firmly. "But he's driving me mad. When we're together he always thinks about her, about what she's doing, about her strange behavior these days."

"Well, maybe he's scared," said Allyson.

"He's obsessed, you mean," she corrected.

"Whatever," Allyson said, shrugging. "By the way, when I see Zabini at lessons, I think that she's getting paler and weaker every day."

"Really?" asked Rachel. "That's good, isn't it?" Allyson shot her a strange look. "I mean, she isn't happy, or anything like that," said Rachel hastily.

"Yeah, well, I guess so," said Allyson distractedly.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, it's just that I'm trying to listen to you and finish my essay at the same time," she snapped.

"If you wouldn't wait until the very last minute to do your homework, you wouldn't always-"

"I know, I know," said Allyson, waving a hand crossly. "I wouldn't always be in a bad mood."

"Exactly," snapped Rachel. "And since all I needed was a little support from you, I'm off to bed."

Allyson muttered a 'goodnight' to her and turned her attention towards the essay once again.

Rachel laid on her bed, looking at the ceiling and smiling wearily. She imagined that, at least before June, they would find out what Sybella was up to, but little did she know that she was going to discover the sneaky Slytherin's plans the very next day.

When Rachel had breakfast the next day she wasn't aware that Sybella's eyes were staring restlessly on her. As if she was afraid to break the eye contact, Sybella was following Rachel's every single movement.

"What are you doing?" asked Emeric to Sybella.

She looked at him angrily. "Just eating, Malfoy," she snapped. "What the hell do you want?"

"You were looking at Rachel," he replied coolly.

"I was just staring in front of me," she answered. "Now, move away. I'm starting to think that you are stalking me."

"I'm not," he retorted. "I just want-"

"Stop it, Malfoy," said Sybella in a sing-song voice. "Don't you understand that I don't care?"

Emeric turned red and walked away. He sat on the other side of the Slytherin table, but still trained his eyes on her.

Sybella's eyes turned back to Rachel; the Gryffindor girl was eating her breakfast, surrounded as always by the small crowd of Weasleys and Potters and all her other Gryffindor friends. Sybella placed a hand in her pocket. Still sensing Emeric's eyes on her, she didn't pull out the small bottle of abortive potion, but she smiled happily. Then her fingers brushed a piece of parchment and her smile turned into an angry expression. If _he_ was having a change of heart, it still didn't affect the plan. She would have finished her duty till the very end.

Rachel sat up and rushed towards the door of the Great Hall where she met Emeric. Sybella smirked when she saw the relieved expression on Emeric's face. She was sure that he thought that she would have followed them and attacked his stupid girlfriend.

But she wasn't that stupid. Not at all.

She looked back at the Gryffindor table and started to stare at Allyson Potter and Malcolm Weasley, then she turned her attention towards the Ravenclaw table and looked at Su Davies. She smirked, positive that her plan would never backfire.

When Su Davies stood up, Sybella stood up as well and followed her out of the Great Hall.

"Hey, Davies!" Sybella called after her.

Su turned to face her. She stared quizzically for a moment at the Slytherin girl who, in five years, has never talked to her. "What do you want, Zabini?" asked Su quite rudely.

Sybella had to bite her tongue to avoid hexing her for her tone of voice. "I was wondering if you could give this to that Weasley girl," she said in her most innocent tone, shoving the small bottle into Su's hands.

"What?" asked Su, confused.

"Should I speak more slowly?" asked Sybella mockingly.

Su shot her a nasty glare. "No," she snapped. "You should tell me why you want me to give a small bottle to a person that I've never talked to."

Sybella shrugged her shoulders. "Listen, I've never talked to her either. I was just passing by the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey thought that I was the perfect person to use as a house-elf and do as she commanded."

"So? She asked you to give it to her. What do I have to do with that?" asked Su.

"I won't see her till this evening at dinner," protested Sybella.

"What about lunch?"

"I skip it; I have to study in the library," she said.

"Well, I won't see her till lunch," said Su, giving the potion back to Zabini and walking away.

Sybella glared at her back. "Yes, I know. But you have the next class with her brother and her cousin," she said.

Su stopped. "Just tell me why you don't want to give it by yourself," she said suspiciously.

Sybella thought very fast for some answer to make her satisfied. "I don't want everybody to think that I care for that Weasley. In fact, I don't care for her at all."

"And I should care?" asked Su skeptically. "Find someone else to use as a slave."

Sybella tried to stay calm, but then an idea hit her. "I don't have time to find someone else," she said slowly. "Well, I'll leave the potion here. What a pity. Madam Pomfrey said that it was imperative for her to have the potion, you know, for the baby's sake. But if you are going to give it to her, don't tell anybody that I was the one that gave it to you. I don't want to make everybody think that I'm a blood-traitor-lover," she added slowly. "Have a nice day, Davies," she said, waving her hand and disappearing behind a corner.

Su bit her bottom lip. Of course, she had never talked to Rachel Weasley, but she knew who she was and knew that she was a good girl. Anyway, Sybella was right. She would have Herbology with Allyson Potter and Malcolm Weasley in five minutes. She could give them the potion and then her problems would be over. After all, she couldn't leave the small bottle there. She picked it up and walked hastily towards the Hogwarts grounds.

"Potter. Potter!" Su walked towards Allyson and Malcolm, who were fighting next to a tree.

"What?" asked Allyson slowly, while Malcolm looked at Su with his mouth open, not believing that the girl of his dreams was really talking to his cousin.

"I've something for your cousin," she said, giving her the small bottle.

"Which one?" asked Allyson, looking at the bottle.

"The pregnant one," said Su contemptuously.

Allyson glared at her. "What is it?"

"A potion for her, from Madam Pomfrey," said Su. "It's imperative that she gets it."

"Why didn't she give it straight to Rachel?" asked Allyson suspiciously.

Su shrugged, annoyed by all those questions. "I don't know. Maybe she had something better to do than look for that girl all over school."

"And she gave the potion to you?"

"I was the only one that passed by the hospital wing this morning," she answered slowly. Why was she covering for that Zabini? She didn't know.

"And what kind of potion is this?" asked Allyson.

"I don't know. I don't really care," said Su Davies, walking away, quite annoyed.

Malcolm stared at Allyson for a long moment. "I can't believe you," he muttered eventually.

"What?" asked Allyson distractedly while she slid the bottle into her pocket.

"Why did you have to be so rude to Su Davies?" he asked her.

"Because she's a little stupid girl whose only interests are boys and dresses," stated Allyson.

"She's the prettiest girl in school," said Malcolm.

"That doesn't prevent her from being an insufferable, stupid, giggling girl," stated Allyson.

"You are just jealous," said Malcolm, shaking his head.

"And you have a crush on her simply because she has an attractive face. How silly you are," said Allyson.

Malcolm opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse and hushed the classroom.

"Today we are going to work with these plants," said Professor Sprout, showing them some little plants. "Don't be deceived by their harmless appearance. They shoot little thorns if provoked," she said, smiling. "Now divide yourself into couples."

Malcolm moved automatically towards Allyson, but she ignored him and walked towards Keira Thomas.

"Mr. Weasley, don't you have a person to work with?" asked Professor Sprout distractedly.

He shook his head.

"You can come here with Miss Davies," said the professor hastily.

Malcolm couldn't believe his ears. This was his lucky day! He smirked at Allyson, who rolled her eyes, and stepped towards a horrified Su.

"Hi," he muttered, blushing furiously.

She looked at him as if he were a piece of rubbish and nodded haughtily.

"Now, after you have put on the protective gloves take the leaves and crush them on the table," said Professor Sprout.

They all started to work, as Professor Sprout walked between the tables.

"Did you know that I'm going to be an uncle in a few months?" Malcolm asked Su. He was wearing a silly smile on his face and couldn't take his eyes away from her.

"Yeah, well, the whole school knows it," said Su slowly.

"It's something important, don't you think?" he asked her, hoping that she was interested in babies, like all girls.

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "I guess so," she answered vaguely.

"Wouldn't you like to have a baby?" he asked her innocently.

Su opened her eyes wide and hit the plant in front of her with such force that the little branches turned towards her and Malcolm and threw all the thorns that they had.

Professor Sprout looked at them, alarmed, when they started to scream from the pain.

"Miss Davies! Mr. Weasley!" she cried, running towards them. "What did I tell you? You shouldn't have aggravated the plant."

"It's his fault," cried Su, while she showed Professor Sprout her arms and face all covered with thorns.

"What?" asked Malcolm, surprised, trying to remove the thorns from his skin. "You did it all by yourself."

Professor Sprout looked at them severely. "Miss Davies, Mr. Weasley, go to the hospital wing," she stated.

"I'm not going to the hospital wing with this boy," protested Su.

"Miss Davies, I won't repeat myself another time," said Professor Sprout resolutely.

Su glared at Malcolm and they walked out of the greenhouse, all covered with thorns, and up to the castle.

"Why did you say that it was all my fault?" asked Malcolm, looking at her.

"Because it's true," she rebated.

"What did I do? You were the one that was handling the plant," he said defensibly.

"You asked inappropriate questions in the wrong moment," she replied.

"What? I just asked you if you wanted to have a baby," he pointed out.

"Exactly! Who do you think I am?" she said haughtily.

"The most beautiful girl of Hogwarts," he mumbled.

"What?" she asked sharply.

"Nothing," he replied hastily.

She walked quickly in front of him and entered the hospital wing. "Madam Pomfrey," she called in a heartbreaking voice.

Madam Pomfrey emerged from a curtain. "Yes – oh for Merlin's beard, what did you do?" she asked, watching Su, then she spotted Malcolm and asked, alarmed, "Miss Weasley did this to you?"

Malcolm shook his head.

"No!" cried Su. "It's all his fault." She pointed at Malcolm.

"That's not true. You did it all by yourself," he protested, sitting down on a bed.

She grimaced at him. "And if it wasn't for me, your sister wouldn't even have gotten Madam Pomfrey's potion," she snapped.

"What, dear?" asked Madam Pomfrey distractedly, as she took out a pair of forceps and started to remove the thorns from Su's arms.

Su bit her lips. Madam Pomfrey gave the potion to Zabini, but Malcolm didn't know that and she had promised that she would keep the secret. "I – well – a student gave me the potion that you wanted to be delivered to Rachel Weasley this morning," said Su vaguely.

"I didn't give anything to anybody for Rachel Weasley. Miss Davies, are you sure that you aren't confused?" asked Madam Pomfrey sweetly.

Su looked at her, puzzled. "Yes! I was told that Rachel Weasley should receive that potion for lunch," she said.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to think hard if she was forgetting something, while she removed the last thorn from Su's arm. "Are you sure? I can't remember I did something like that this morning," she said thoughtfully.

Su looked at her, frustrated. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Who was this student?" asked Malcolm.

Su glanced at him. "I can't tell you that," she said, blushing.

"Why?" asked Malcolm, raising his eyebrows.

"Because she asked me not to tell anybody," answered Su.

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging.

"And why are you covering for her?" asked Malcolm, getting more suspicious by the second.

"I don't know," she repeated.

"Miss Davies, who gave you the potion?" asked Madam Pomfrey seriously.

Su looked at her and then at Malcolm. "Oh, fine!" she exclaimed. "Sybella Zabini," she sighed.

"What?" yelled Malcolm. "And you believed her that it was a potion from Madam Pomfrey?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking at him awkwardly.

Malcolm ignored her and jumped down from the bed, still covered with thorns. "You told Allyson to give it to Rachel at lunch, right?"

She nodded.

"What's the time?" asked Malcolm.

"Lunch has already started," said Madam Pomfrey. "But Mr. Weasley, may I ask why you are so concerned?"

"Because Emeric Malfoy told me that she was up to nothing good," he said hastily, running out of the hospital wing.

He bumped into a couple of first year Gryffindor girls and screamed at them because they slowed him down. He pushed away Professor Slughorn, who yelled at him that he should take five points from Gryffindor for his behavior, but he didn't care. When Malcolm pushed open the door of the Great Hall, Rachel was bringing to her mouth the same small bottle that Su had given Allyson earlier. Malcolm's heart skipped a beat.


	21. Draco's Innocence

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K.R. does.

A/N: Sorry if it took so long for this chapter to be updated, real life issues – both mine and of my b-r's – got in the way. Anyway, my first chapter of this story uploaded from China! We have to celebrate…Hope you'll like this chapter!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks lot for the chapter, sweetie! And I'm glad you enjoyed your staying at London!

**Draco's Innocence**

Draco Malfoy nervously twisted the wand in his hands. He looked at the grandfather clock in the Headmistress's office and discovered that a half an hour has passed, and he had been waiting there without seeing anybody. He was getting more nervous with every passing minute. Professor McGonagall had used the Floo Network to summon him to Hogwarts, saying that she had to speak to him. She said that it was something serious, but didn't go into detail. He had been quite surprised when he saw her face in the fireplace of the Malfoy Manor, and had just the time to grab his cloak and enter the chimney to travel to her office, before she ran out muttering something about Azkaban that didn't set his mind to rest at all.

After other ten minutes of waiting he finally heard the door opening at his back, and when he turned, he saw Professor McGonagall followed by Madam Pomfrey and an exhausted Sybella.

Professor McGonagall walked towards her desk and sat down in front of Draco. Madam Pomfrey stood behind him with her hands on Sybella's shoulders.

"Mr. Malfoy," started Professor McGonagall gravely. "What you did is an act totally lacking in common sense. Didn't you think that you could have been sent to Azkaban for this?"

Draco looked at her, puzzled. "Exactly what am I accused of?" he asked innocently.

Professor McGonagall glared. "Don't you even try to act like you don't know anything," she said.

"No, I seriously don't know," he replied. He felt vaguely uneasy, without knowing why. Maybe it was Sybella's presence, but he didn't understand why she should have been there if she had received his last letter.

Professor McGonagall breathed deeply. "Mr. Malfoy, you know that even an attempt of killing is punished with a sentence to Azkaban, don't you?" she asked, trying to sound calmly.

"An attempt of killing?" Draco seemed genuinely surprised.

"Stop acting, Mr. Malfoy," snapped Professor McGonagall. "We know what you have done."

"And may I know it?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Professor McGonagall looked at him and thought that he was a very good actor. "Mr. Malfoy, maybe you have not yet understood the seriousness of what you did."

"No, Professor McGonagall, I've not yet understood what I did," he answered.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "So do you really think that we'll believe you, after Miss Zabini's testimony?"

Draco turned to look at Sybella, who lowered her eyes as soon as possible. "What did she say, exactly?" he asked slowly.

"Miss Zabini, would you please repeat to Mr. Malfoy what you have just told us?" asked Professor McGonagall sweetly.

Sybella blushed furiously.

"Come on, darling," said Madam Pomfrey, patting her shoulder reassuringly.

She nodded awkwardly. "M-Mr. Malfoy b-blackmailed me," she stammered in a very convincing tone. "H-He said that if I wouldn't have used the abortive potion on Rachel Weasley, he – he would have-" her voice trailed off.

"What, dear? Come on, don't be afraid to tell us," said Madam Pomfrey.

"He would have me expelled from this school and hurt my parents," she whispered, crying.

Draco looked at her with his mouth wide open and for a moment he hated her.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall drew his attention to her. "Mr. Malfoy, is this true?"

"I alert you, Mr. Malfoy, don't you even try to lie to us. We have analyzed the potion that was given to Rachel Weasley and it was abortive potion," said Madam Pomfrey matter-of-factly.

Draco opened his mouth to defend himself, but, unexpectedly, what came out was another thing: "How is Miss Weasley doing? Is she fine? And the baby?" he asked hastily.

Professor McGonagall looked at him surprised for a moment, then she spoke. "She's fine, Mr. Malfoy, and the baby is fine, too. You have been very lucky that Malcolm Weasley found out what was going on and managed to prevent his sister to drink the potion."

Draco looked at her, and Professor McGonagall was upset to see that he was genuinely relieved. There was something wrong with his behaviour. She would have thought that he would have been angry because his plan didn't succeed, but, on the contrary, he was happy.

"And my son? How is Emeric?" asked Draco, snapping Professor McGonagall out of her thoughts.

"He's fine--upset--but fine," said Professor McGonagall. "He was very angry, though, but that's understandable, isn't it?"

Draco nodded. "And he didn't – I mean, he didn't try to – to kill himself, right?" he whispered.

Professor McGonagall looked at him, surprised. "No, not that I know."

Draco sighed in relief. "Can I see him? And Miss Weasley?"

"Mr. Malfoy," thundered the Headmistress, "you have just tried to kill your grandson and you want to see if his parents are all right?"

Draco looked lost for a moment. "I-I didn't mean to harm my grandson," he stammered.

"Well, forcing Miss Weasley to abort wouldn't have brought anything good to him," stated Professor McGonagall.

"I didn't want to make her abort," said Draco in a bare whisper. "Not anymore," he added.

"Mr. Malfoy, we have the proof of your guiltiness, Miss Zabini has already testified," said Madam Pomfrey.

Draco took a deep breath. "Yes, it's true. I wanted to make Miss Weasley abort, and I was the one who sent the recipe for the abortive potion to Miss Zabini, but that was in November. I changed my mind during all this time and I regretted what I was going to do," he said bitterly.

Professor McGonagall was inspired deeply. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry to say that your regret won't save you a sentence in Azkaban," she said seriously.

Draco turned towards Sybella with an upset look. "I sent you a letter during the Christmas holidays, didn't you receive it?" he asked hastily.

Sybella arched her eyebrows. "Which letter?" she asked, trying to sound as innocent as she could.

"A letter where I told you to stop breeding the potion, and, under no circumstances to give it to Miss Weasley," said Draco.

"No, I didn't receive any letter," she said simply.

"You're lying!" exclaimed Draco. "My owl came back without the letter the day after I sent it to you."

"I didn't receive it," she repeated stubbornly.

"Professor McGonagall, search her bedroom!" said Draco arrogantly.

"Do it," said Sybella haughtily. "You won't find anything."

"Mr. Malfoy! We never do such things at Hogwarts. And you should that very well," said Professor McGonagall sternly.

Draco looked at her frustrated, then turned towards Sybella and pointed her wand at her. She looked terrified, and, while the Headmistress rushed towards him, he yelled, "_Accio_! _Accio_! _Accio_!"

Sybella screamed and she tried to seize all the small things that, from her pockets, were flying towards Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy!" shrieked Professor McGonagall, horrified. "How dare you to do such a thing to a student?"

But Draco wasn't listening to her. He was looking intently at the objects that he had in his hands: a quill, some Bertie Bott's Beans, her wand, a piece of parchment-. Draco put all the things on the headmistress's desk and unrolled the parchment. He glanced at it and a smirk crept onto his face. "Here you are," he said, waving the parchment in front of Professor McGonagall.

"What is it?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"The letter I sent to Miss Zabini," stated Draco.

Professor McGonagall glanced at Sybella sternly. "Miss Zabini?" she asked "Is that true?"

Sybella bit her bottom lip and lowered her eyes, but she didn't answer.

Professor McGonagall took the letter from Mr. Malfoy and read it, then collapsed on her chair. Draco couldn't help smirking. "Poppy, take Miss Zabini to Professor Slughorn's office and tell him what happened," said Professor McGonagall. "I'll write a letter to her parents."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and dragged Sybella out of her office.

"I hope that you'll expel her," said Draco.

Professor McGonagall looked at him. "It'll be up to Professor Slughorn, but I don't think that she'll be expelled at all."

Draco looked intently at her. "You wanted to send me to Azkaban, and you aren't going to expel her?"

"She doesn't have a past as a Death Eater," stated Professor McGonagall.

"She almost killed my grandson," cried Draco.

Professor McGonagall looked at him, surprised. "Since when are you so interested in your grandson? I understood that you weren't concerned at all about his fate, or, even better, you longed for his death."

Draco swallowed. "That's true," he said stiffly. "But during the Christmas holiday, I had a rethinking."

"And may I know the reasons that changed your mind?"

Draco flushed. "I-I think it's a private matter," he said slowly.

"Mr. Malfoy, you'll understand the reasons for my curiosity. I need to know what made you change your mind about the whole deal," she said, and Draco couldn't help noticing a nuance of sweetness in her voice.

"Emeric said that he would have killed himself if I hurt his baby or his girlfriend," whispered Draco.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "And you were afraid to lose your only son," she said understandingly.

Draco nodded. "I love him. I can't even think about-"

"You!" The door of the Headmistress's office burst open and Emeric stormed inside, angry and upset. He pointed his wand to his father's throat and glared at him.

Professor McGonagall stood up hastily. "Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing?" she asked agitatedly.

Emeric glanced at her before turning his attention to his father. "Making him pay for what he did," he hissed.

Draco looked into his eyes. "Do you really want to hex me, Emeric?" he asked slowly.

"If that will make me feel better," answered Emeric.

"Mr. Malfoy, lower your wand," ordered the headmistress. Emeric snorted, but kept his wand still. "Mr. Malfoy," repeated Professor McGonagall seriously.

They heard steps on the stone stairs leading to the office and someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Professor McGonagall.

The door opened and Rachel entered and froze at the sight of Emeric with his wand pointed at his father. "Emeric?" she whispered.

Emeric didn't look at her, but his wand started to shake in his hands.

Rachel took a step towards him, then another one, and another. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his arm outstretched towards Draco, and lowered it slowly.

"What are you doing?" asked Emeric, looking at her. "This man has almost killed our son."

"This man is your father," she said calmly.

"I don't care," answered Emeric.

"Yes, you do," said Rachel determinate.

Draco looked at her. He had to admit that she was brave and smart, looking vaguely like her mother.

"He was going to kill my son," repeated Emeric loudly.

"Mr. Malfoy, sit down, please," said Professor McGonagall, nodding towards a chair next to Draco. "I have some things to tell you."

"Maybe I should go," said Rachel, stepping back.

Emeric seized her arm. "No," he said firmly. "Stay."

Professor McGonagall nodded to her and took a deep breath, and then she passed the letter that she had just read to Emeric.

"What is this?" he asked a little bit more rudely than he had intended.

"Read it," answered Professor McGonagall calmly.

Emeric cleared his throat. "'Dear Sybella, how are you? Your parents told me that you stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays; quite admirable. But if you did it only for the potion, I'm sorry to tell you that I don't need it anymore. On the contrary, my only concern is that Miss Rachel Weasley is healthy and-'" Emeric's voice trailed off. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who was smiling slightly.

"When did you send it?" asked Emeric, without looking at Draco.

"During the Christmas holidays," he answered simply. "After we had that talk."

Emeric placed the letter on the desk in front of him and breathed deeply. He was going to lose his son and now had nobody on whom to vent his anger. He turned towards Rachel hastily. "I told you that she was up to something, didn't I?" he hissed.

Rachel nodded awkwardly. "Yes, you were right," she whispered.

"It's not her fault, Emeric, if she can't help seeing the good in every person," said Draco seriously.

Emeric looked at him surprised. "How can you say that? You don't even know her," he said.

"I've known her mother," he said as if it explained everything. "And your girlfriend is very much like her."

Rachel blushed deeply.

They fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the soft noises of the silver objects. After ten minutes Professor McGonagall spoke, "I think that you and your son have something to tell each other. Maybe Miss Weasley and I should wait for you downstairs."

Emeric looked at Rachel. He was going to protest that he wanted her to stay by his side when Draco spoke, "No, Professor McGonagall. I want Miss Weasley to stay here," he said.

The Headmistress looked at him, even more surprised than before, but she nodded, walking out of her own office and closing the door behind herself.

"Miss Weasley," started Draco, looking at her, "I wanted to beg your pardon," he said seriously.

Emeric looked at him and started to suspect that that man wasn't his father, but someone that looked a lot like him.

Rachel looked surprised at him. "S-sure," she stammered.

"I didn't mean to do anything bad to you or to your baby," Draco continued. "I was just trying to-" His voice failed him.

"I know," said Rachel hastily. "My father told me that some pureblood wizards think that he's a blood-traitor because he married a Muggleborn like my mother. You were just trying to keep your blood pure," she said almost miserably.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, well, I was wrong," he said slowly.

"Were you, Father?" asked Emeric. It was the first time in his entire life that he heard his father apologizing and, above all, saying that he was wrong.

"Yes, your blood isn't tainted like I thought. You're better than lots of pureblood witches and wizards that I've known," he said seriously.

Emeric looked at Draco with his mouth wide open and Rachel blushed deeply. "Thank you," she whispered.

Draco nodded. "When Emeric told me that he would have killed himself if I would have harmed his son, I felt too bad. I thought that I would have died if he committed suicide and it was all my fault. When I understood that I wouldn't have been able to live without my son, I finally understood what he felt for his own son, your son." Then he looked at Emeric. "I guess you are still angry with me," he said.

Emeric looked at him without being able to say anything. He was angry until ten minutes before, but now that his father had spoken in that way, he wasn't anymore. He shook his head and looked at the floor.

"I thought you would be mad at me, because I tried to kill your son," said Draco slowly.

"I was mad at you," stated Emeric. "I really was. I think I've never been more furious, but after what you said I'm – I'm feeling almost ashamed to have been mad at you."

Draco smiled slightly, and then stood up. "Thank you, Emeric." Emeric nodded. "It's better if I go home and tell your mother that everything is all right. She was very upset when Professor McGonagall called me. She screamed that if I had done something to you two, she would have brought me to Azkaban personally," he said, smiling.

Rachel smiled back.

"Tell Professor McGonagall to keep an eye on Miss Zabini," he said seriously, picking up some Floo Powder from a pot next to the chimney.

"I will," replied Emeric hastily.

"Goodbye, then, see you soon," said Draco, stepping into the fireplace.

"Father, wait," said Emeric. He stood up and walked towards him and for the first time in many years, he hugged his father.

Draco looked at him, taken aback, then placed his hands on Emeric's head and stroked his hair gently.

Rachel looked at them with her eyes filled with tears, half because the scene was very moving and half because she missed her own father so much that she felt like she missed a part of her heart.


	22. The Unexpected Gift

Disclaimer: Nothing you can recognize is mine. Everything else it is.

A/N: I like this chapter. I think it's stupid, but I like it anyway. I just wanted to tell how normal those teen-agers are (except for the fact that they'll soon be parents…). Anyway, hope you'll enjoy it, I think Emeric is a bit perv in this chapter, but he was also quite frustrated… lmao!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading it and for all your funny comments! I love them!

**The Unexpected Gift**

The news that Draco Malfoy had formally made up with his son and Rachel Weasley quickly spread through the entire school. Lots of Slytherins were told by their parents that the Malfoys were becoming weaker and that a great family like that was going to be spoiled by the impending birth of that baby. But there wasn't a living Malfoy, except for Narcissa, that cared about that malice.

As the end of January drew closer, the weather became more clement and the snow stopped falling, but it was still extremely cold and all the students never ventured out of the castle except for one thing: Quidditch.

"If we win with 150 points' lead on Slytherin, and Hufflepuff will lose against Ravenclaw in the next match, we'll be first," said Matthew eagerly.

"Yeah, of course, but there are still three other matches after this," stated Thomas. "And we have to win at least two of them."

"We'll surely win the one against Hufflepuff, and have great chances to defeat Ravenclaw as well," replied Matthew.

"Our greatest opponent is Slytherin," stated Thomas.

"Yeah," agreed Matthew.

"What are you talking about?" asked Malcolm, sitting across from his cousins at the Gryffindor table.

"Something that you couldn't understand," said Matthew, smirking.

"A thing called Quidditch," added Thomas.

Malcolm glared at them. "I understand Quidditch," he said, blushing.

"Yep, that's why you have attended the tryouts how many times? Four, right? And you never got selected for the team," said Thomas mockingly.

Malcolm blushed even more.

"What's going on here?" asked Rachel appearing at her brother's back.

"Nothing," said Thomas and Matthew hastily.

"Is that true, Malcolm?" she asked him caringly.

"Yes, they were just talking about Quidditch," he answered slowly.

"And maybe they were emphasizing another time how good they are," said Rachel with her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Something like that," answered Malcolm vaguely.

"You are really annoying, you know that?" asked Rachel to her cousins.

"Oh, my gosh! No, Rachel, don't say that, you'll break our hearts," answered Thomas sarcastically.

Rachel glared at them. "Leave him alone," she said.

"Or else?" asked Matthew.

"Or else I'll ask Professor McGonagall to suspend Quidditch," she answered calmly.

Matthew and Thomas burst into laughter. "And she would suspend the Quidditch tournament just because you'll ask her?" asked Thomas.

She smiled maliciously. "She has already asked me if all that noise disturbed me. And I said no. But I could always change my mind," she answered.

Matthew and Thomas looked at her intently, and then they stood up. "We better go, we have to get ready for the match," said Matthew darkly.

"Yeah," added Thomas, following him out of the Great Hall.

Malcolm followed them with his eyes, and then he turned towards his sister, who had just sat down next to him and started her breakfast. "Did Professor McGonagall really tell you that?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled. "Of course not. Come on, would she stop the Quidditch tournament just because I'm pregnant?"

"It was very believable, though," said Malcolm.

"No, it wasn't," she replied.

"Anyway, thank you," he said slowly.

"Sure. If it wasn't for you, my baby wouldn't be here," said Rachel, caressing her stomach. "I think that I can help you with those two."

Malcolm blushed. He wasn't used to Rachel's kindness towards him. Since the day that he ran towards her, snatched the bottle of abortive potion from her hands and smashed it on the floor, saving her baby's life, she was extremely caring towards him, so caring that sometimes it was almost embarrassing.

"A-are you coming to the Quidditch pitch?" asked Malcolm, trying to change the subject.

"Of course," she answered, surprised. It was well-known by everybody that she didn't enjoy Quidditch very much, but she has never missed a match.

"Who are you going to support?" asked Malcolm.

She looked at him as if he had gone mad. "Gryffindor, of course," she answered. "Why?"

Now it was Malcolm's turn to look at her as if she was out of her mind. "Because your boyfriend is in Slytherin?" he asked sardonically.

"Yeah, well, I'm in Gryffindor, and I'll support Gryffindor. But if Slytherins win, I won't be totally unhappy," she confessed.

Malcolm looked at her as if she had just slapped him hard on his face. "What?"

"Well, as you have just said, my boyfriend is in Slytherin," she reminded.

Malcolm just shook his head and looked away.

"Can I ask you something?" he heard Rachel's voice.

"I guess so," he answered lazily.

"What would you like to receive for your birthday?"

Malcolm looked at her with shiny eyes. "Oh, Rachel! Thank you very much. Even if my birthday is in August, I can't believe that you are already thinking of what to give me," he said, smiling.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Well, yeah, it's actually not for you," she said matter-of-factly. "Next week is Emeric's birthday and I don't have a clue about what to get him."

Malcolm looked at her, crushed. "Oh, and you're asking me what I would like so you can have an idea?"

Rachel nodded.

Malcolm cleared his throat. "Take notes then: I would like a new broom, a lifelong supply of Chocolate Frogs, a pack of Uncles Fred and George's tricks, a dog, a kit for cleaning up my broom, a subscription to the Quibbler, some love potion, a-"

"Okay, listen," said Rachel, cutting him off. "I don't know what kind of person you are – I mean, a subscription to the Quibbler? – but I don't think that Emeric will like something like a lifelong supply of Chocolate Frogs."

"What are you talking about? Everybody loves Chocolate Frogs," he protested.

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to give him something that lasts," she pointed out.

"Rachel, a lifelong supply lasts for life," he said matter-of-factly.

"Something better than Chocolate Frogs," she retorted, annoyed.

"There's nothing better than Chocolate Frogs."

"For Merlin's beard, Malcolm!" shrieked Rachel. "You are no help!"

Malcolm shrugged. "Why should I help you choose a present for a Slytherin's birthday?"

"Because that Slytherin will be your brother-in-law," she said hastily.

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "There's something that I don't know?"

"No," she muttered.

"Are you two going to marry?"

"No."

"Then why-"

"Listen, I was just joking, okay?" she hissed.

"Nice joke," he joked. "Dad would have a heart attack if you told him."

"Well, I'm not so sure," she said thoughtfully. "Did you know that Mum and Dad married a year before they had planned just because Mum was pregnant with me?"

"Really?" asked Malcolm lazily. What was the big deal about that news if Rachel was pregnant and still underage?

"Yes, and Dad had always told us that he married Mum because he loved her," she said.

"Dad was going to Mum because he loved her; they were just anticipating the wedding to be another what? A year?" he asked.

"A year."

"Yeah, well, but they were going to marry anyway, weren't they?"

"I suppose," muttered Rachel.

"Then you should stop complaining about that point," said Malcolm wisely, sitting up and walking away.

Rachel stared at him as he exited the Great Hall, and, very likely, headed for the Quidditch pitch.

"What are you looking at?" asked Allyson as she sat down next to her cousin.

Rachel turned her head towards her. "Malcolm," she answered simply.

"Cool," said Allyson sarcastically.

"What are you still doing here? The match is going to start in a few minutes and you have not yet gone to the changing room," said Rachel.

"I know," answered Allyson. "I have to hurry."

"Indeed," stated Rachel. "You are the Seeker."

"And you know what that means, right?" she asked with a mischievous smile. "I'll play against your boyfriend."

"I know," she replied calmly. "And is my boyfriend a good Seeker?" she asked, smiling.

Allyson smiled back. "As a matter of fact he is one of the best Seekers I've ever played against," she answered.

"Really?" asked Rachel taken aback by her cousin's compliment about Emeric.

"Yes, his only concern is the Snitch. He's never distracted by the match or the score, which is very good, because he's totally concentrating on what he has to do," she explained. "That's why I'm not very happy about him being the new Seeker of Slytherin. I preferred the one that they had last year, much more stupid and much easier to play against."

"Wow, Allyson, I never thought that you would say something nice about Emeric," said Rachel in a whisper.

Allyson shrugged. "I'm not so keen to become his cousin, but if he's a good player, he's a good player. He looks for that Snitch as if his whole life depends on it."

"Does he really care so much about a stupid, annoying little ball?" asked Rachel, snorting.

"'Stupid, annoying little ball?'" shrieked Allyson. "You know what you are talking about?"

"The Golden Switch?" Rachel replied, yawning.

"Exactly, and don't you dare call it a 'stupid, annoying little ball' anymore," she warned her.

"Okay, sorry," answered Rachel, raising her eyebrows. "I'm just a little bit stressed."

"Because of the baby?" asked Allyson in a totally different tone of voice.

"No," answered Rachel calmly. "Because of Emeric."

"What did he do to you?" she asked alarmed.

"Nothing, nothing," she said hastily. "But next week it'll be his birthday, and I don't know what to buy him."

"Well, what about a Snitch?" asked Allyson jokingly. "Oh, my! It's just so late, Matthew will scream at me for ten minutes," she added, sitting up and practically running towards the door.

Rachel looked at her vaguely, still thinking about her words. "A Snitch isn't such a bad idea," she said to nobody in particular. Since the Quidditch match was just going to start, there weren't lots of people in the Great Hall. She stood up lazily and walked outside the castle, towards the Quidditch pitch, already filled with all the students and teachers. Some cheers were audible from far away and even something that sounded like 'Weasley Is Our King'.

Everybody found the match extremely entertaining, even Rachel, which said a lot. The final score was 270 to 250 points for Gryffindor. But neither Slytherin nor Gryffindor were happy about that, the former because they had lost, and the latter because they hadn't won a 150 points' lead against Slytherin.

Rachel waited for Emeric just outside the Slytherin changing room, and when he exited, she greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey," he answered darkly, kissing her quickly.

"Something's wrong?" she asked him, holding his hand.

"Did you see the match?" he snapped.

"Yes," she answered, shrugging.

"Then you'll know what's wrong," he answered rudely.

"Slytherin didn't win," she said vaguely. "Well, if that's what bothering you, Gryffindor didn't win either."

"What are you talking about?" he asked slowly.

"Well, Gryffindor had to win a 150 point lead on Slytherin to being in first place in the tournament. And now that we haven't, we have to win the next three matches, and we'll be first only if Ravenclaw will defeat Hufflepuff. But Slytherin has to – what?" she asked as she spotted his confused face.

"How do you know all these things? I've always thought that you hated Quidditch," he said.

"I don't hate Quidditch," she pointed out. "I just can't understand why everybody is so addicted to it."

"I'm not addicted to Quidditch," he replied.

"Yeah, of course," she said sarcastically.

"Well, never mind," he said, seizing her arm and pulling her towards him. "Wanna snog?"

She pretended to be indignant and slapped him on his arm, but didn't draw back when he kissed her.

The week passed, as Rachel kept on repeating to Allyson, 'too damn quickly' and Emeric's birthday finally arrived on a bright Wednesday morning.

"So, what did you get him?" Allyson asked her cousin as they sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

"It's a surprise, but let's say that you helped me to choose it," Rachel answered cryptically.

"Really?" asked Allyson, trying to remember when she had expressed an opinion about something that Emeric would like.

Rachel nodded. Allyson opened her mouth to ask again what did she get him, but she was cut off when Rachel jumped to her feet and walked towards the door.

"Happy birthday," she said cheerfully, throwing her arms around Emeric's neck. "How's it feel like to be an adult?"

Emeric kissed her. "It's pretty much the same," he answered when he broke the kiss. "But nobody will dare say anything about the fact that I'll be having a child, because I'm an adult, and that's actually good."

Rachel smiled. "Yeah, guess that next month I'll feel just like you."

"Yep," he answered.

"So, do you have a little time for me?" she asked, looking at him.

Emeric cast a quick glance at the Slytherin table. "Can't I have breakfast first?" he asked hopefully.

Rachel looked at him surprised. "Yes, I guess you can. We can meet up after Herbology if you want," she proposed.

"I've Defence Against the Dark Arts after Herbology," he reminded her.

She looked heartbroken. "Oh, okay. What about this afternoon?"

"Sorry, Quidditch practice. You know what I was thinking? Maybe this evening we can meet in a deserted classroom and we can-"

"Stop it right now," she answered, alarmed. "Can't you remember what I told you?" she asked, patting her belly.

He groaned. "I remember it," he muttered. "Just thought that maybe, since it's my birthday, you would have forgotten about that little thing for a moment."

"That little thing is our child," pointed out Rachel outraged.

"Not our child," he replied quickly. "But the fact that you don't want to-"

"Okay, listen, I'll think about that, okay?"

"And tonight we'll-"

"I don't know."

"But you'll try to-"

"We'll see."

"And at what time we-"

"After dinner, I think."

"And where-"

"Let's meet here and then we'll decide," she said, cutting him off.

Emeric nodded. "See you later, then," he said eagerly.

"See you," she answered, a little bit depressed.

'That bloody damn day', as Rachel kept on repeating to everybody, passed by extremely quickly, naturally even more quickly than the last week. And when dinner arrived, Rachel had tried to convince herself for the whole day that pregnant women could make love till the sixth month without causing any trouble to the baby, and even after that if they were particularly gentle.

Anyway, she was still quite nervous when she left the Great Hall, holding hands with Emeric, and headed for the first deserted classroom, which happened to be classroom eleven.

Emeric pushed open the door and they entered.

"Are you sure that nobody will come looking for us?" asked Rachel, looking alarmed.

"They are still at dinner," answered Emeric with a grin on his face. "Like last time, they were all at the Quidditch match."

"Yeah," answered Rachel, sitting on a desk with her feet that dangled in the air.

Emeric reached her and pulled her towards his chest, starting to kiss her fiercely.

"Wait," muttered Rachel, trying to push him away.

"What?" he asked groaning.

"I wanted to give you my present first," she said, pulling out of her pocket a small package.

He looked at it and smiled. "Thank you," he said, taking the box from her hands.

"Open it," she said, smiling.

He undid the red bow and removed the top of the box. A little yellow thing flew out of the box and zoomed around Emeric's face. He seized it with some difficulty, because it was quite fast. "A Snitch?" he asked, looking at the small winged ball.

Rachel nodded. "Don't you like it?" she asked in a bare whisper.

"Of course I do," he said, smiling.

Rachel smiled back. "Look," she said, taking the Snitch from his hands and turning it on its side.

She handed it back to him and he read out loud, "E.M. and R.W." He looked at her. "Our initials."

Rachel's smile grew wider. "I used a spell to carve them onto the Snitch."

He smiled again and leaned down to kiss her fiercely.

"So? What do you think?" she managed to ask every time that he let her breathe or when he moved his attention to different spots of her body

"I love it," he answered slowly.

Then Rachel felt his hands on her wide belly and he started tugging on the hem of her skirt. She placed her own hands on his back and drew him closer to her. Emeric's hands followed all her curves up her body till the very first button of her shirt, and then he slowly started to undo them.

When he reached the last one he slid the shirt slowly from her shoulders, and it fell noiselessly onto the desk at her back.

He looked at her body, and felt strange because he found it even more attractive than before when she had a flat stomach and smaller breasts.

"Ouch," she moaned.

"What?" asked Emeric, alarmed. "I didn't do anything."

"I know," she said, placing a hand on her belly. "But the baby kicked."

"What?" he asked, looking at her stomach.

"He just kicked," she answered, smiling.

"Where?" he asked, excited.

"Here, look!" She fingered the right side of her stomach.

"Yes," he exclaimed as he saw a little movement under her skin. "He did it again!"

Emeric kneeled in front of her and placed both his hands on her belly and pressed gently, trying to feel his son through her skin. Then he started to rub her belly.

Rachel looked at him as he leaned his head on her stomach and whispered, "Hi, honey, I'm your dad," in a broken voice.

"Emeric, are you all right?" she asked him, smiling.

He looked at her, and for the first time, she saw his eyes shining with something very similar to tears. He nodded. "C-can I stay a little bit with my baby?" he asked in a whisper.

"I can't go away and leave you here alone with him, but if you want, you can talk to my stomach as long as you wish," she answered eagerly.

He nodded again and pressed his ear to her stomach, completely forgetting about the that he wanted to have that night. He felt that he could have stayed there for all his life with just the knowledge that the person that he loved most in his life was carrying inside of her his child, and the fact that baby was alive and moved made it even more real.

Now he was sure.

The best gift that he received that day was from his son.


	23. Banned

Disclaimer: Not mine… nope… quit asking!

A/N: Oh this chapter is just the beginning of Rachel's little misadventure. Poor Rachel, but she's really stubborn like his father and mother put together! Anyway, yeah, I know that in some points this chapter resembles an essay on pregnancy, it's just that last year one of my friends got pregnant and she kept talking about everything was happening to her, so I've become a kind of expert… Wow…

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this. :)

**Banned**

A small crowd of students stood in front of the notice board in the Gryffindor common room and read the new notices that had just been posted.

Rachel sat on an armchair with her Transfiguration book on her lap, opened to the page of human transfiguration. Allyson pushed her way through the other students and collapsed on a couch near her, with her face red and her hair all messed up.

"Aren't you curious to know what's written on that announcement that everybody is reading?" she asked Rachel, breathing quickly.

Rachel shrugged. "Since I was here when Professor Lupin hanged it up, no," she answered.

"Oh, Rachel! Aren't you intrigued about that?" asked Allyson excited.

"About the Apparition lessons? Yes, I'm very excited. Guess everybody is," she answered, smiling.

"Yep, all the sixth years are excited, and all the other students are just envious," replied Allyson.

"Next year you'll be able to follow the lessons as well," said Rachel.

"I know, but I would really want it to be this year. Did you know that Matthew and Thomas keep on Apparating when Mum invites them for lunch?" snapped Allyson, looking around to see if her cousins were in sight.

"Yeah, that's what they do when my mum invites them to my house as well," said Rachel. "If you don't pay attention to them too much, they usually stop after a while," she added as if she was talking about a very annoying bug.

"I can't ignore them if they keep on Apparating into my room with all those 'pops'," said Allyson matter-of-factly.

Rachel sighed. "Well, ask your mum to cast an Anti-Apparition spell in your bedroom," she suggested.

Allyson looked at her and smiled widely. "Great idea! I haven't thought of that," she exclaimed.

Rachel smiled. "I know, I'm a little genius," she said jokingly.

Allyson arched her eyebrows. "What?" she asked sarcastically. "Little?"

Rachel snorted. "A little genius with a wide belly," she corrected herself. "Happy?"

"Yep," said Allyson, starting to laugh.

Rachel rolled her eyes, just in time to see that Alexis was coming towards them.

"Hey, Rachel, Allyson!" she greeted them.

"Hi Alexis," they greeted her back together.

"So, I saw that the Apparition lessons for the sixth years are going to start," she said, sitting on the couch near Allyson. "Excited?"

"Yes, of course I am. I'll be able to annoy Thomas and Matthew as much as they had annoyed me last summer," she answered, smirking.

"Yeah, those two can be rather irritating if they want," agreed Alexis. Allyson agreed. "By the way, Rachel, how is the baby doing?" asked Alexis.

Rachel smiled brightly. "Fine, he keeps on kicking, but that's pretty funny, when you get used to it."

"Doesn't he hurt you?" asked Allyson, concerned.

"Just a little bit. But then, you think that it's your baby, the one that you are bearing inside, and it's not exactly pain you feel," she answered wisely.

"Cute," said Allyson slowly.

Alexis looked at Rachel and bit her bottom lip. "Can I?" she asked awkwardly, stretching an arm towards the other girl's belly.

Rachel nodded and smiled.

Alexis's fingers brushed her stomach delicately, almost afraid to cause her any damage with just her touch. Rachel took Alexis's hand into hers and placed it fully on her belly.

"Oh!" murmured Alexis as she felt it: so large and tense. "How is it? I mean, how do you feel knowing that a little life is forming inside of you?"

"It's wonderful," she whispered. "Wonderful," she repeated.

Alexis nodded and took her hand away. "Now I can stop studying and go to bed, even if tomorrow I've a Potions test and I don't know a thing," she said.

"Why?" asked Rachel, confused.

"Didn't you know? It brings you luck if you touch the belly of a pregnant woman," said Alexis.

"Really?" asked Allyson, excited. "Let me try it," she said, starting to rub Rachel's stomach.

Rachel looked at her and shook her head. "Are you feeling luckier?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes," said Allyson matter-of-factly. "My shoulder doesn't hurt me anymore."

Rachel looked at her confused. "Your shoulder hurt you?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" exclaimed Alexis. "How are you, Allyson?"

Allyson smirked. "Oh, finally, we remember the little non-pregnant cousin," she said sarcastically.

Alexis shrugged. "I was just trying to be nice."

Allyson glanced at her. "Okay, sorry," she said hastily. "Rachel, how can you not know? Nobody told you what happened to me during the Quidditch practice, this afternoon?"

"No," said Rachel simply. "Will you elaborate, then?"

"Of course," answered Allyson eagerly.

Alexis stood up.

"Where are you going?" asked Allyson, distressed that her audience was already decreasing before she even started to tell her tale.

"I've already heard it three times, without counting the fact that I witnessed the whole thing," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm off to bed."

"Good night," said Rachel.

"Good night to both of you," said Alexis, walking out of the common room and up the stairs.

"So, what happened?" asked Rachel, interested.

Allyson smiled. "Well, it all started out like a normal Quidditch training; naturally, I arrived with ten minutes of delay and Matthew thought that, since he's the captain, he had to give me a quarter of an hour boring speech about how Quidditch was important and stuff like that. As always I started the training in a very bad mood, and it took me one hour before I managed to find the Snitch. And you know something? Marissa Angstrom arrived with half an hour of delay and Matthew didn't tell her anything, I bet that he fancies her," she said, grinning.

Rachel grinned back. "Yeah, I've always suspected that there was something like that going on," she confirmed.

"Well, I'm sure that it's something like that, because when I pointed out that he didn't tell her anything, he snapped at me to get my nose out of other people's business," said Allyson bitterly.

"Did he?"

Allyson nodded. "He's such an idiot sometimes," she stated. "Anyway, after I told him that, he also sent me to the other side of the pitch to practice all alone, while the others were having fun all together."

"You should report him to Professor Lupin," stated Rachel.

"Oh, but I've already done something like that after today," she said mischievously. "Do you see Matthew anywhere?"

Rachel looked around and, for the first time, noticed that Thomas was sitting all alone near the fireplace. "No, has he already gone to bed?"

"Nope," said Allyson, grinning. "He's in the Trophy Room; he has to clean up all the trophies in there, and Professor Lupin said that the last person that did it was your father, when he was in his second year."

"Which means," Rachel calculated quickly, "something like fourteen or fifteen years ago."

"Yep," said Allyson, clapping her hands. "Cool, right? I bet that he'll stay there all night."

"Nice revenge you got," said Rachel matter-of-factly. "But what _did_ happen to you, exactly?"

"Oh, well, as I was saying, I was practicing on the side of the field, when a Bludger hit my arm, and I broke my shoulder," she said nonchalantly.

Rachel gasped. "What?"

"Yeah, and guess who threw the Bludger?"

"Matthew?"

"Yes."

"But he didn't do it on purpose, did he?" asked Rachel, concerned.

"No," said Allyson. "But he was too busy staring at Marissa to see where he was sending that ball," she added bitterly. "And he hit me. I saw the Bludger too late to dodge it, but I also saw Matthew's face and he was afraid."

"How high were you flying?"

"High enough to pass out when I landed. I woke up in the hospital wing with the entire team looking at me, and Madam Pomfrey who was trying to keep them all away. Matthew was upset," she said, snickering evilly.

"Really? Then maybe he's really sorry for what he did," said Rachel slowly.

"I hope he is," answered Allyson.

"Did he say that he was sorry?"

"He didn't have the chance," said Allyson. "I started screaming out from the pain, even if Madam Pomfrey had already taken care of my shoulder and I was fine."

"Maybe you have been a little bit harsh with him then, haven't you?" asked Rachel pointedly.

Allyson frowned. "No," she said stubbornly.

"He didn't do that on purpose," Rachel reminded.

"I know, but he could have been nicer to me," protested Allyson.

"You said he was upset."

"Maybe he was upset because Marissa now thinks that he's an idiot."

"Or maybe because he cares about you," pointed out Rachel.

"Yeah and Hufflepuff will win the Quidditch Cup," she answered sarcastically.

"They could," said Rachel, shrugging.

Allyson widened her eyes and smacked her forehead. "I was almost going to forget!" she exclaimed. "Madam Pomfrey told me to tell you to go and meet her as soon as you could."

"Are you joking?" asked Rachel angrily.

"Nope, should I?"

"And why are you telling me only now?" asked Rachel, sitting up quickly.

"Because I forgot and because you asked me to tell you what happened to me first," she answered.

"I didn't – oh, never mind," said Rachel, storming out of the common room. She walked quickly down the corridor and headed to the hospital wing, before she heard footsteps at her back.

"Well, well, well," said a low voice. "Out of bed at this hour, are we?"

She turned to face Filch with an old Mrs. Norris in his arms. "What's the time?" she asked, alarmed.

Filch checked his watch and gaped, then he muttered something like 'nine' and walked away.

Rachel stared at him; he was getting definitely old. Her mother had told her that he was really a very strict caretaker when she was at Hogwarts, but now that he was getting old, Professor McGonagall herself was thinking about his replacement.

She pushed open the door of the hospital wing. "Madam Pomfrey?" she called, looking around.

"Rachel, dear," said Madam Pomfrey, emerging from behind a screen. "Finally, what took you so long?"

Rachel sighed and collapsed onto a bed. "My cousin has just informed me that you wanted to see me. I came as quick as I could," she answered.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "How is Miss Potter?" she asked.

"Fine and excited about the fact that Matthew got a detention for what happened to her," she answered bitterly.

"He was really upset, shouldn't have been given any detention. Poor boy, he didn't do that on purpose," said Madam Pomfrey sternly.

Rachel nodded. "My cousin said that it was urgent that you wanted me here."

"In fact, dear," said Madam Pomfrey caringly.

"Is there something wrong? With the baby, I mean," she asked, alarmed.

"No, Rachel, nothing like that," said Madam Pomfrey sweetly. "But I guess you have been informed about the news."

"Which news?" asked Rachel, confused.

"Apparition lessons," stated Madam Pomfrey.

Rachel smiled excited. "Yes, isn't that wonderful? I can't wait to do the exam, even if I've not yet started the lessons. My father had to do that exam twice – I hope I'll be like my mother. Dad always told me that she was praised by the man that thought them."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, your mother was a star pupil, just like you. Anyway, I'm sorry to tell you that you won't be able to attend those Apparition lessons," she said regretfully.

Rachel looked at her with her mouth open. "What?" she whispered after a while.

"I'm sorry, but Apparition is a serious thing and it's already very difficult if you want to Apparate yourself alone, but bringing someone with you is even worse," she said matter-of-factly.

"What are you talking about? I'll do it all by myself," she answered.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes lowered to her belly. Rachel looked down as well and understood. "Oh," she said, rather upset. "But he can't be considered as someone yet, right?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at her, surprised. "Of course he can, dear."

Rachel bit her bottom lip. "And you think that I won't be able to follow the Apparition lessons because of the baby?"

"No, Rachel, you could follow them, but I'd rather prefer you not to. It can be dangerous," warned Madam Pomfrey.

"Because I'm stupid, right?" she asked slowly, while some tears were forming at the corner of her eyes.

"No, Rachel, because it's dangerous, that's all," stated Madam Pomfrey.

"I've never heard about this rule that pregnant women can't Apparate," she said outraged.

"There's no rule, in fact," answered Madam Pomfrey. "It's just a piece of advice that I'm giving you."

"Can't I even try?"

"I don't think that you should," said Madam Pomfrey, biting her bottom lip. If Rachel wasn't in her situation she would have sent her straight to the headmistress, but she took a deep breath and smiled. "Rachel, I know that you are intelligent and I'm pretty sure that nothing bad would happen to you or your baby, but you never know. Apparition is very complicated and lots of intelligent wizards sometimes left parts of their bodies behind. I mean, it's not a simple thing at all."

"But I'll be left behind from my friends and all the school, just because I won't be able to do the exam," she exclaimed.

"I don't think so. Lots of people don't pass that exam," pointed out Madam Pomfrey.

"I've never failed anything," she said, shocked.

"You won't fail anything, in fact. You just won't take that exam at all," explained Madam Pomfrey to her.

Rachel bit her bottom lip. She seemed ready to reply with something, but all she eventually did was nod her head. "Okay," she muttered. "I won't attend the Apparition lessons."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Good."

Rachel stood up from the bed. "Good night, Madam Pomfrey," she said rather coolly as she exited the door.

Right out of the door she bumped into someone that would have caused her to fell backwards, if he hadn't seized her wrists.

"Rachel," he said breathlessly.

"Matthew," she answered darkly, spotting the dirt all over his face, hands, and robes. "Are you going somewhere? Don't you know that the curfew is going to start in ten minutes?" she asked angrily.

Matthew looked at her, taken aback by her reaction. "Yeah, well, I was going to the common room right now," he said.

"It looks like you are going in the wrong direction then," she snapped.

"I wanted to see if Allyson has recovered," he protested. Rachel couldn't help noticing a shadow of concern on his face.

"She has recovered," she said softly. "She's already in the common room."

He nodded relieved. "How are you doing?" he asked her.

"Fine," she answered. "Why?"

"Because you're strange, like you are stressed," he confessed.

"Yeah, you would be stressed too if someone has just told you that you won't be able to attend the Apparition lessons," she said angrily.

"What? Why?" he asked, puzzled.

"Because Madam Pomfrey thinks that I won't be able to Apparate me and my baby at the same time," she snapped.

"Yeah, well she's right. Apparition is a very dangerous-"

"Stop it!" she shrieked. "If you don't believe in me, then just stop it." She stormed away, leaving her very bewildered cousin wondering what he had done to deserve such a family.


	24. Pieces of Advice

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I swear that the next chapter will be up very soon, hope you enjoy this one in the meantime. I like it, maybe it's because it's about Draco? LOL! Let me know what you think!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for your help and I'm happy that you graduated!

**Pieces of Advice**

"I simply can't believe that you said those things to Madam Pomfrey!" exclaimed Emeric, when Rachel finished telling him the conversation she had the evening before with her. They were sitting outside, right under a tree near the lake.

"I told her what I thought," she snapped. "She said that I wouldn't be able to Apparate."

"Didn't sound like that at all," he pointed out.

"To me it did."

"Listen, she was just trying to be nice to you, give you some advice, and stuff like that. You'll listen to her, won't you?" he asked his girlfriend, a little bit concerned. He knew that she wasn't stupid, but sometimes she could be so damn stubborn.

Rachel glared at him. "You do think that I won't be able to Apparate as well," she hissed.

"No, I think that you'll be extremely good with the whole Apparition thing," he said hastily. "But I also think that Madam Pomfrey is right, and I won't permit you to harm my baby."

He thought he wasn't saying anything bad, since he also smiled; but very unluckily this caused to Rachel to glare at him and snap, "Do you think that I want to harm my baby?"

He swallowed and tore down some grass blades, without looking at her. "No," he murmured.

"Then, just don't say something that you could regret," she said bitterly.

"I won't, but, Rachel, don't try to Apparate while you are pregnant, okay?" he asked, trying hard not to sound too concerned.

Rachel looked at him with a mixture of sweetness and anger. "Okay," she whispered. "But I want to see how the lessons will be like."

"I think that there's nothing wrong with it," said Emeric, sitting up and brushing away the grass from his robes.

"Where are you going?" she asked him.

"I've to send a letter to my father," he answered vaguely.

"Why?"

"Because he's my father."

"And besides that?"

"I need to ask him something,"

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Well, I – oh, bloody hell! Can I have some privacy?" he snapped.

She glared at him. "If you think that I'm too stupid to understand that you-" He stopped her flow of words with a kiss before heading for the Owlery. He felt her eyes on his back long time after he had left her under that tree.

He climbed up the stairs of the Owlery, trying hard not to slide down as there was still some ice on them. Anyway, all his efforts were in vain as he bumped into a girl who was descending rather quickly.

"Hey, why don't you-" his voice trailed off as he saw who the girl was. "Sybella?" he asked bewildered.

Sybella looked at him with her eyes wide, then she tried her best to jump over his lying body, but Emeric seized her arm and held her back. "Why are you here? I thought that you had been expelled from Hogwarts."

"I've not," she said hastily, trying to take away his hand. "Let me go," her voice was anything but threatening. All the contrary of the other times, she was scared.

"Let you go?" he asked slowly. "You should be sent to Azkaban," he hissed.

"That's not what the governors think," she said, digging her fingernails into his hand.

He let her go so suddenly that she fell for about a couple of stairs, before she actually stopped. He looked at her half-concerned, hoping that she was going to get up. He wouldn't have wanted to be sent to Azkaban as well. Luckily she got up almost immediately and, after a quick, scared glance at him, she left.

He shook his head and murmured something like 'Dementors and demented' and then he entered the Owlery. Taking out of his pocket the letter that he had written to his father, he had an idea; he opened the letter and wrote down quickly, _Sybella has come back to Hogwarts. How is that possible? Father, can't you do anything? _

He went through the letter and smiled, satisfied with himself. He looked around and searched for the first school owl that didn't seem too old nor too weak. He chose a tawny owl and tied up the letter.

"Be quick," he ordered the owl haughtily. Then he headed back for the grounds, where he hoped to find Rachel once more.

The owl had to travel a lot to reach the Malfoy Manor, and when he landed inside the kitchen of the mansion, he was attacked by the Malfoys' eagle-sized owl.

"Get off of him," shrieked Dinky. He pushed away the Malfoys' owl and picked the letter from the school owl. "You can go," he said, stroking the feathers with his long brown fingers. The owl flew out of the window, hooting angrily.

Dinky read the name on the envelope and snapped his fingers, disappearing from the kitchen and appearing into Draco's office.

"Mr. Malfoy has mail," said Dinky, bowing.

"Good," said Draco, taking the letter from Dinky. "What's going to be for dinner?" he asked the house-elf, while he opened the envelope.

"Dinky wants to prepare the meat loaf," said Dinky.

"Fine," said Draco dismissively, waving a hand.

Dinky bowed another time and, snapping his fingers, he disappeared again.

Draco glanced through the letter and when he reached the very bottom of it he threw it away and screamed, "Pansy!"

Nobody answered.

"Pansy! Pansy!" he repeated with his voice louder.

He heard some steps outside in the corridor and the door burst open. "What?" snapped Pansy. Draco looked at her and his jaw dropped, she had only a towel around her body and her hair was wet.

"W-were you taking a shower?" he asked her.

"Actually, it was a bath," she hissed.

"Well, wear something I need to talk to you," he said, trying not to look at her and concentrated on what he had to tell her.

"Can't you wait?" she asked frustrated. "I want to finish the bath."

"Did you know that they sent Sybella back to school?" asked Draco, cutting her off.

She looked at him with her eyes wide and, walking towards the chair, she collapsed onto it. "What?" she whispered.

Draco nodded. "Emeric has just sent me a letter."

Pansy looked at him, surprised. "What?" she repeated louder.

"Yes, he needed advice," he said matter-of-factly.

"What?" she almost screamed.

"Is it so unexpected? I'm his father," he snapped.

"Yes," she said hastily. "It's unexpected."

Draco snorted. "Well, he needed my advice."

"You've already said that," pointed out Pansy.

"And you are soaking on my favourite chair," snapped Draco.

Pansy glared at him. "It's the only chair in your office."

"And my favourite," he retorted.

"What did Emeric want?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Manly things," he answered haughtily.

She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, of course. Then why did you call me?"

Draco bit his lips. "Because I wanted to tell you about the fact that Sybella is back at Hogwarts, close to Emeric and Rachel."

Pansy gaped at him.

"What?" he asked after a while.

"You never called her by her first name before," she said, startled.

Draco shrugged. "There's always a first time," he said hastily.

"Since when you are on first–name terms with a Weasley?" she asked teasingly.

"Since I understood that she's not as stupid as her father," he spat.

"Very noble."

"Thank you."

Pansy nodded. "Well, I think I'll go on bathing; I want to finish before dinner at least." She stood up, leaving a wet chair behind her.

Draco looked at her walking away. "Pansy, wait," he said slowly.

She turned, looking at him rather malevolently. "I'm freezing, Draco. What?"

"Can you help me with the advice I should give Emeric?" he asked very slowly.

Pansy glared. "Let me finish my bath and I'll help you," she stated, walking out of the office.

Draco looked at the door for what seemed hours, and well, actually they really were hours. He was trying to find a solution to what Emeric has just asked him, and he didn't know from where to start and above all, he didn't know why his son asked him instead of Pansy; she knew much more about those things. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the door burst open again and Pansy entered the office another time. Her hair dry and shiny and her skin smooth. 'It better be,' thought Draco bitterly, 'with all she costs me in those beauty products.' She was wearing a long, green, silk dress, quite simple but nice.

"So, what should I help you with?" she asked, conjuring a chair with her wand.

Draco cleared his throat. "I need assistance," he said seriously, as she sat down in front of him.

"I'd already understood that," she answered quietly.

"If you could be a little bit more collaborative, that would be appreciated," snapped Draco.

"Sorry," said Pansy.

"Okay, well, Emeric wrote me that it's going to be Rachel's birthday in a couple of days." Draco ignored the fact that Pansy giggled when he said Rachel's name. "And he wants a piece of advice on what to give her."

"Excuse me? You are telling me that he doesn't have a clue on what to give her and her birthday is in two days?"

Draco nodded. "Exactly."

Pansy sighed. "Typical. What did she give him for his birthday?"

Draco glanced down at the letter. "He says… a Snitch."

"A Snitch?"

"A Golden Snitch with their initials carved on it," confirmed Draco.

"Aw," she said. "She's so sweet."

"Really?" asked Draco distractedly.

"Of course," she remarked. "Anyway, let's think about a present he should give her."

"I've been thinking about it all afternoon," he answered, yawning.

"Good, and which solution have you found?" she asked.

"Not one," he answered truthfully. "I wouldn't have asked you for help otherwise."

Pansy shrugged. "You are right after all," she said slowly.

"So? Think, Pansy. The house-elf said that he cooked meat loaf for dinner, and I don't want to be late," urged Draco.

Pansy glared at him. "What about a family jewel?"

Draco gasped. "What?" he asked huskily.

"A family jewel," she repeated more clearly. "Should I spell those words for you?"

Draco shook his head indignantly. "What kind of family jewel?" he asked.

"Well, for Christmas, he sent her the emerald-silver bracelet with the snakes," she said matter-of-factly.

"In fact," growled Draco.

"And you know what I was thinking? That there are also the earrings."

"Which ones?"

"The ones with snakes," she explained. "They match the bracelet perfectly."

"So, you are suggesting we send him the earrings that my mother gave you when we got engaged?" he asked hoarsely.

She nodded.

"I'm not sure that I want your help anymore," he growled.

"What do you suggest, then?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

He looked at her and snorted. "I don't have a clue," he admitted. "By the way, what did I give you for Christmas?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "This necklace," she said, showing her neck to him. "Did you make Dinky buy it?" she asked suspiciously.

"Of course I didn't," he said outraged. "I was just testing you – seeing if you remembered."

"I remember," she snapped. "Should I go and collect the earrings, then?" she asked.

Draco snorted, not particularly keen on depriving his family of all its jewels. "Okay," he growled.

Pansy smiled and exited the office. She came back a minute later with a small, green, silk box that matched her dress so perfectly that Draco didn't even spot it, until she put the box down on the table.

"Tell him to write her something nice, too," she added.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Something else?"

Pansy shrugged. "Yes, tell him that he's to brush his teeth every time he eats," she said sarcastically.

"Funny," muttered Draco, writing a couple of lines to his son and wrapping everything in nice, emerald green paper. He stared at it and muttered, "Never noticed how much green there was around here."

Pansy shrugged. "Well, we can adopt new colours for the furniture. What about gold and red?" she asked.

"You are kidding, right?" he asked stiffly.

"Why?"

"We are going to become related to the Weasleys, not to become the greatest supporters of Gryffindor," he said.

"Okay, I was kidding," she said slowly. "Now can we go downstairs and have dinner? I'm starving."

Draco nodded and stood up. They walked down the hall and climbed down the stairs to reach the living room, where a long table was already prepared for them.

"Dinky," called Draco haughtily.

The house-elf appeared in front of Draco with a loud 'crack'. "Yes, master?" asked Dinky.

"Send this to Hogwarts," said Draco, handing him the pack. "And serve us the dinner," he added.

"Yes, master. Dinky will do it in a second," squealed the house-elf, disappearing again.

---

Emeric didn't expect it. He didn't expect it at all. His father answered him the same day he sent the letter, and he even sent him the perfect present for Rachel. He was suspecting that his mother helped him.

Anyway, now it was Rachel's birthday and he was waiting just outside the Gryffindor common room, with the present in his hands and a nervous look upon his face. Rachel should have been exiting soon, since it was almost breakfast time and she was never late for breakfast.

Eventually the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Rachel stormed out, rather grumpily.

"Happy birthday," said Emeric, practically jumping on her and hugging with so much strength that for a moment she thought that he was going to break her bones.

"Thanks," she managed to say, trying to catch her breath.

He released her slowly. "You don't seem very happy," he said.

"Yeah, well, not one of my best birthdays," she replied, starting to head for the Great Hall.

"Why?" he asked, following her. "Your cousins didn't give you anything?"

"What?" she almost screamed. "They didn't give me anything? They covered me with presents."

"And that's bad?"

"Extremely bad," she growled. "There was not a single present for me."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, puzzled.

"I received four pair of little shoes, ten pyjamas, a bunch of dummies, a cradle, some baby's bottles, covers, toys, dolls-"

"I got the point," he cut her off, smiling. "What are you complaining about? We'll have nothing to buy."

"Yeah, great," she said sarcastically.

"Well, maybe this will light you up a little bit," he said slowly, handing her the gift.

She looked at him with a gleam in her eyes. "What is it?"

"My present for you," he answered, grinning.

She bit her bottom lip. "Well, I've guessed that. I meant what is it in here?"

"A pair of baby socks," he answered hastily. "Just kidding. Why don't you open it?"

Rachel nodded and opened it slowly, unwrapping the green paper delicately. She opened the box and stared at the small earrings.

"Do you like them?" asked Emeric, peeking inside the box as well.

She looked at him with her mouth open and nodded. "They're wonderful," she whispered.

"They belonged to my grandmother, and then my mother. I want you to have them, now," he said seriously.

She looked at him with teary eyes.

"What?" he asked alarmed. 'Not crying again, is she?' he thought.

She shook her head and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

"Sure," he answered, caressing her hair. As she released him, he looked into her eyes, wiped away the tears from her cheeks and kissed her on her forehead.

Unfortunately the particularly romantic moment was spoiled by Rachel's stomach, which rumbled right at that moment.

"Was that my baby?" asked Emeric.

"Nope," she answered, smiling. "It was me, I'm starving." She took his hand and guided him towards the Great Hall, with a bright smile upon her face.


	25. The Accident

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: Okay, this chapter explains why at the beginning I said that there was a bit of horror, it's not exactly horror, but it's not very nice… Oh, you'll see… Anyway, this is the first chapter of a new part of my story, you'll see that as well. Hope you enjoy it!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for your help and I'm happy that you graduated!

**The ****Accident**

Rachel looked at her watch nervously for the tenth time that morning.

"Stop it," ordered Allyson. "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," she said distractedly.

"Listen, the lessons aren't going to start in the next two hours, and you don't even have to attend them. Why are you so anxious?" she asked, sipping her morning pumpkin juice.

Rachel snorted. "I want to have an idea of what they consist," she answered simply.

"Emeric will tell you," Allyson pointed out.

"I want first-hand experience," she snapped.

Allyson shrugged and rolled her eyes, aware that talking to her cousin was like taking to a wall. 'Or better, the wall would listen more,' she thought.

"Hi Matthew!" said Rachel, snapping Allyson out of her thoughts.

"Hi Rachel," he greeted her, sitting down across from her. Then he looked at Allyson, who simply gave him a haughty glare.

"Hi Allyson," he said slowly.

"Did you hear something, Rachel?" asked Allyson.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said matter-of-factly. "Matthew has just greeted you."

Allyson glared at her. "Really? That's so strange, he never used to greet me in the morning. Actually, he never used to greet me. Just scream at me and send me playing all alone."

Rachel rolled her eyes, while Matthew lowered his, flushing slightly.

"Oh, stop it," snapped Rachel. "He's sorry."

"I don't think so."

"Matthew, tell her that you are sorry," Rachel ordered bossily.

"I'm so-"

"As if I would believe him," Allyson cut him off.

"You should. He's sincere."

"I don't mind," said Allyson stubbornly.

"Okay," said Rachel, sitting up and beating her fist on the table. "Do whatever you want." And she stormed away towards the Slytherin table.

"Listen, Allyson, I'm so-"

"I know, I know, you're sorry," Allyson cut off Matthew. "Never mind, okay?" she said, waving a hand in front of him.

Matthew looked at her as if she was mad.

"What?" she snapped.

"Nothing," he said hastily, lowering his eyes again.

"Hi Allyson. Hi Matthew," said Thomas, sitting down next to Matthew. "Have you two made up already?"

Matthew glanced at Allyson. "I think so," he whispered to Thomas.

Thomas nodded knowingly. He was going to open his mouth to say something, when some screams made everybody turn towards the Gryffindor table.

Rachel stood in front of a very angry Slytherin, with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face, while Emeric looked at her as if all he wanted was to stop her from screaming.

"It's just so stupid," he stated out loud.

"So, you think that I'm stupid," she claimed outraged.

"Not you," he answered annoyed. "The whole thing. You are so damn stubborn."

"Thank you," she said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," he answered as sarcastically as her.

She snorted. "You are unbelievable."

"Me? I'm just trying to give you a logical explanation."

"I don't need that. I've already reasoned enough."

"It doesn't look like it," he spat.

She glared at him. "I just want to see how the lessons are. What's wrong with that? And last week you said that it was okay with you if I just looked," she asked.

"You shouldn't even be in the room with the others as we try to Apparate," he screamed.

She brought a hand at her temple and rubbed it gently. "Gosh, you think that I won't be able to control myself, right?"

Emeric glanced around at the Great Hall and noticed that everybody was staring at them. He stood up, walked towards Rachel and, seizing her arm, he dragged her out of the hall.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"We're giving everyone a little show," he growled.

"And so?" she snapped, freeing her arm.

"Okay, listen. Remember when I kept on telling you that Sybella was up to something and you never believed me?"

She flushed. "I believed you. You were just too-"

"Was I not right?"

She bit her bottom lip. "You were," she muttered.

"Then why don't you listen to me for once and stay in that damn common room instead of the Great Hall?"

"Because I just want to have a look at what you are doing," she answered.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Don't listen to me, but if something happens, I-" His voice died in his throat as if he was thinking of something that he would have done, but nothing came into his mind.

She glanced at him and stood on tiptoes to kiss him quickly before coming back to the Great Hall. She smiled when she heard him say, "I'm still angry with you."

No sixth year left the Great Hall after breakfast, all too excited to start their Apparition lessons. Professor McGonagall had made the four tables disappear, and now on the floor lay a great amount of circles.

The students stood in the Great Hall, all chatting anxiously about the upcoming lesson, all except Rachel, who sat on a chair and looked bored. Emeric too was silent and kept on glancing in Rachel's direction, concerned.

Eventually a small man entered the door of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall silenced the crowd of students as the heads of the houses divided them in groups.

The small man cleared his throat. "Good morning, students," he greeted them. "I'm Mr. Wilkie Twycross, and I've been instructed by the Ministry of Magic to teach you the basis of Apparition."

An excited murmur spread across the students and Professor McGonagall had to silence them another time.

"First of all, let me tell you that Apparition isn't a simple thing, and that it's not rare that people leave piece of them behind." Some of the sixth year girls brought their hands to their mouths; Twycross ignored them. "But it's something easily fixed. Anyway, most importantly, I want you to keep the three Ds in your head: Destination, Determination and Deliberation!"

The students looked at him as if he was mad.

"Come on, repeat them after me: Destination, Determination and Deliberation!" he said cheerfully.

"Destination, Determination and Deliberation," repeated the pupils unenthusiastically.

"Very good. Now, choose a circle and stand next to it. Professor McGonagall has gently removed the Anti-Apparition ward in the Great Hall, so that we'll be able to practice freely."

All the students moved towards a circle, Rachel looked at them, bored. The Apparition lesson wasn't half as exciting as she had expected. But in the whole hall, she was the only one that didn't seem to find it funny. All the other students seemed to expect something wonderful in the next few minutes. Emeric was listening too attentively to Mr. Twycross to look at Rachel anymore.

"Now, at the count of three you'll try to Disapparate and Apparate inside the circle. One-"

Rachel saw that everybody was concentrating hard, so hard that some of them had their faces all red.

'Destination, Determination and Deliberation,' she thought. 'What's so hard with that?'

"-two-"

She looked at Emeric and smiled, the face he was wearing in the attempt on concentrating was simply hilarious.

"-three!"

Rachel looked annoyed at the fact that nobody, not even one of those contemptuous Ravenclaws managed to Apparate themselves farther than what looked like a couple of inches. She snickered evilly and felt a little relieved at the fact that no one was better than her yet.

Mr. Twycross didn't seem to be surprised. "Okay, let's try another time. Remember: Destination, Determination and Deliberation," he repeated for the tenth time.

Everybody nodded. Everybody tried again. Everybody failed.

Rachel smirked. If only they got her the chance to try it. Only once, just to feel how it was. Nothing would have happened; how could it? Nobody was succeeding. It was simply too difficult, or maybe everybody was too dumb.

"Let's try another time," she heard Mr. Twycross say. She looked at him and noticed that he wasn't bored at all, nor did he seem to care that nobody has Apparated yet. For him it looked all perfectly normal.

She snorted, if she were him she would have already screamed at all those people that seemed not to concentrat enough. It didn't seem too difficult to her.

She looked intently at a circle that lay unguarded next to her. It looked like the circles that had appeared were the exact number of sixth year students, so there was her circle.

"On the count of three, again," said Twycross slowly.

Rachel looked at the circle with all her strength. 'It's so stupid,' she thought. 'Just look at your destination and have determination. How can it be so difficult?'

"Three!"

She concentrated deeply on that circle, but nothing happened. She sighed. "Stupid Apparition," she muttered a little bit too loud as a Hufflepuff girl hushed her.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, I didn't expect you to do it," said Twycross calmly. "We should try another time and then the lesson will be over."

Rachel stared at the circle. She was starting to feel tired and dozy, and all the chats around her didn't help her to stay awake.

"One,-"

That lesson has bored her to death. She just had to sit there without doing anything, and that was so frustrating, especially for her, who didn't like to stay there and have nothing to do.

"-two-"

She would have given anything to be somewhere else. 'Even in the middle of that damn circle,' she thought stubbornly.

"-three."

Rachel felt her body becoming lighter. She looked down at her hands, but they seemed to disappear in front of her. Her heart started to beat furiously against her chest; something was happening.

She raised her eyes and saw that the sight that she had of the Great Hall was slightly different from before, like she had moved. She felt so weightless, so light. Too much light, as if she missed something.

Rachel scanned attentively her body, and felt rather reassured because all her limbs were at their place. She instinctively placed her hands on her belly and stopped death.

It was flat, as if there was nothing inside.

Somebody near her yelled, horrified. Hundreds of eyes turned towards her and then to the chair she sat in before. She saw the terror on everybody's face.

She felt a mortal fear, and without having the courage to turn and watch the chair, she felt herself Disapparate again and after less than a second she was back to the chair and, with her hands still on her stomach, she felt it swelling up suddenly.

The Great Hall was silent, so silent that she could hear her own heart beating. Rachel felt something hot and sticky running down her legs and she touched it. When she looked at her hands, they were covered with blood.

She raised her head, upset, and met Emeric's eyes. He was petrified. She opened her mouth to say something, but everything went black and, falling from the chair, she fainted.


	26. Reconciliation

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: Told you that a new part of my story started. Hope you'll like it. It's a very emotional chapter, but I hope you'll like it. And I hope it isn't too pathetic…

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for your help and I'm happy that you graduated!

**Reconciliation**

'Pop'.

Ron Apparated in front of his house door, a bag in one hand, the key in the other. He turned the key in the lock of the door and it opened. He stepped inside the dark house.

"Hermione?" he called from the living room. "Hermione, I'm here." He entered the kitchen and placed the bag on the table. "I've bought the milk you asked me to."

He looked around; not only were there no signs of Hermione, but, to his great horror, there were no signs of dinner either. "Hermione?" he called again, his tone a little bit alarmed.

He came back into the living room and turned on the lights. He looked around; there were no indications of a fight. Ron sighed in relief, thinking that very likely his wife was still at work, when he noticed some powder near the chimney. He bent down to have a better look and noticed that the carpet was covered in ash. As if someone had missed the fireplace, or as if his hand had been shaking furiously.

He looked up and for the first time saw a small piece of parchment on the beam right above the fireplace. It took him several minutes to decipher the message. There were big wet spots where the ink had faded away, as if someone had cried on it.

When he finally managed to pull out a sense from the message, he had to read it several times. In a shaky writing, so different from Hermione's usual one, there were written these words:

_Ron. Rachel is at St. Mungo's, please hurry up. She __might lose the child. Hermione._

Ron swallowed hard, then, and without even thinking, he picked up a handful of Floo Powder and stepped inside the fireplace.

"St. Mungo's," he said hoarsely.

---

Hermione raised her eyes from the cup of tea that she was sipping and looked at the young man sitting across from her. He was pale and seemed to suffer from lack of sleep. Hermione tried to smile reassuringly, but she wasn't so sure that she was succeeding.

"Everything will be fine, Emeric," she said, but couldn't recognize her own voice.

Emeric looked at her and nodded, not believing a word she said.

"Do your parents know?" asked Hermione.

Emeric nodded. "P-professor McGonagall owled them. She told them that I was going to spend the night away from school."

Hermione nodded. "Are they coming?"

Emeric shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at Hermione with concern. "And Rachel's father? I-is he coming?"

"I don't know," she sighed.

"I-I think he will," said Emeric, gulping. "Or, better, he has," he amended, nodding at the door of the waiting room.

Hermione turned to look at the door and her heart skipped a beat. Ron was standing there, with an upset look and his clothes all covered with ash.

Hermione stood from the chair she had collapsed on hours earlier and let the cup of tea clatter to the floor as she threw herself towards her husband.

She hugged him, burying her face into his chest. "Oh, Ron," she whispered, sobbing. "Rachel…" but her voice died in her throat as she thought about her daughter.

Ron glanced at Emeric and then looked down at Hermione. He hugged her back and stroked her hair. "Hermione, what happened?" he whispered into her ear.

Hermione sniffled and looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. She clasped at his robe and gestured at the chair. Ron wrapped an arm around her back and, holding her tightly, led her towards the nearest chair and made her sit.

"Hermione?" he called her gently, sitting down next to her. "What happened?"

Hermione shook her head and started to sob again. Emeric knew that she had fought back the tears in front of him, but now that her husband was there she couldn't restrain herself anymore.

Then unexpectedly, Ron looked at Emeric and said, "What happened to my daughter?"

Emeric took a moment to recover from the shock that the man that, only a few months before, was going to strangle him was now talking to him with such despair in his voice.

"S-she was going to lose the child," said Emeric in a bare whisper. He looked intently at Ron's face, trying to capture any expression that could have betrayed his feelings.

But Ron's face remained impassive.

"How?" asked Ron, and his voice wasn't as steady as Emeric would have expected from his face.

"She Apparated, but left the child behind," explained Emeric, trying to close out of his mind the memories of that terrible moment.

"Apparated? But, have you already done the test?" asked Ron, surprised.

Emeric glanced at him and had to remind himself that Rachel hasn't talked to her father since Christmas. "No. We had the first lesson this afternoon."

"The first lesson? And did she Apparate during the first lesson?" asked Ron, pride evident in his tone of voice.

Emeric nodded. "But she shouldn't have. Madam Pomfrey told her that she shouldn't have attended the lessons, not at all. And Rachel wasn't participating in them. She just sat there, looking at us all, and then – she did it." Emeric took a deep breath; he was talking very hastily. "But she left the baby behind – it was terrible. And they said that Rachel too – she's in danger." Emeric buried his face in his hands and, for a moment, Ron thought that he had stopped breathing. The only noise audible in the waiting room was Hermione's hushed sobs against Ron's chest.

All of a sudden the door leading to Rachel's room burst open and a Healer exited. He was a tall man with blond hair and extremely blue eyes. Ron and Hermione raised their eyes, while Emeric jumped to his feet.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, right?" asked the Healer, looking at Ron and Hermione, who nodded. "Emeric Malfoy?" he asked Emeric, who nodded slightly.

"How is she?" asked Emeric hastily.

"Better if you sit down, Mr. Malfoy," said the Healer, placing a hand on Emeric's shoulder and forcing him back into the chair. He sat on the other side of the room, across from them all.

"Rachel is sleeping," said the Healer, smiling slightly.

"She's fine, isn't she?" asked Hermione, concerned.

The Healer nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley, she's fine."

"And the baby?" asked Emeric hoarsely.

The Healer looked at him with piercing blue eyes, and his smile faded away. "We did our best to save both the mother and the child, but the baby was in a serious danger."

Emeric paled so much that his grey eyes shone on his face like two pools of iron. "Are you saying…" His voice trailed off, too afraid to even think about the possibility that his baby could have never be born.

The Healer shook his head. "No, the baby isn't dead; he is still in his mother's stomach, but we'll have to see what is going to happen in the next two days. If he'll pass the next couple of days without further complications then we can say that he'll very probably survive."

Emeric swallowed hard. "V-very probably?" he asked hoarsely.

The Healer nodded. "What happened is an extremely complicated thing We've never had to deal with something like that. But we did our best and now we can only wait."

Emeric nodded and, closing his eyes, sunk into the armchair. He opened them only some moments later, when he felt the pressure of a hand on his left shoulder. He turned to see the father of his girlfriend with a serious expression on his face. Ron, with a nod, tightened the grip on Emeric's shoulder.

Emeric nodded back, then he looked at the Healer. "Can I see her?"

The Healer rubbed his forehead. "She's asleep."

"Can I stay with her until she wakes up?" he asked huskily.

"I don't know," said the Healer. "I don't think that you-"

"I just want to hold her hand until she wakes up," interrupted Emeric imploringly.

The Healer's eyes ran from Emeric to Ron and Hermione, who both nodded.

The Healer looked back at Emeric and nodded too. "Okay, but be very careful with everything you do. She's extremely weak, and doesn't need to be overexcited by anybody."

Emeric would have snapped at the Healer that he wasn't going to jump on Rachel as soon as he saw her, but he didn't find the willpower. Actually, it took great effort to even stand up and walk towards the door, watched by Ron and Hermione.

As soon as he disappeared outside of the door, the Healer turned his attention towards Rachel's parents. "We are going to tell you when she'll wake up," said the Healer seriously.

They nodded. "My sister works here," said Ron. "Can't she watch over Rachel?"

"Your sister is Ginny Weasley, right, Mr. Weasley?" the Healer asked, frowning in the effort of thinking.

Ron nodded.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley."

"Why?" asked Hermione weakly.

"Because she doesn't work in this ward. She stays in the ward for Magical Diseases," answered the Healer matter-of-factly.

"Can you inform her, at least?" asked Ron.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Weasley," answered the Healer promptly. He looked at Hermione and said, "Mrs. Weasley, you should go home and have some rest, or else we'll soon have to take care of another Weasley here."

Hermione looked at him darkly. "I'm not going anywhere, not until you tell me that my daughter and her baby are both fine."

The Healer sighed. "I knew that you would say that. Anyway, we'll keep you informed if there is any news."

"Thank you," said Ron.

The Healer nodded. He stood up and, without a further word, walked out of the waiting room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone.

Hermione buried her face again in Ron's chest and sobbed quietly, but when she heard Ron's voice, she pushed herself from him and looked at him.

"It's my fault," he said, and Hermione looked at him, more surprised at the tone of his voice, something that verged on despair, than at his words.

"No, Ron, it's not," she said, placing a hand on his cheek.

Ron took her wrist and pushed her hand away from him. "I prayed for that," he said so coldly that his voice sounded almost unnatural.

"Y-you prayed for what?" asked Hermione slowly.

"For that baby to go away. For that baby to die a natural death. For Rachel to lose her child," he whispered.

Hermione looked at him with her mouth wide open, not able to think or say anything reassuring. She felt Ron's grip tighten around her wrist and all she could say was, "Ron, you are hurting me," in a very thin voice.

Ron looked at her wrist without letting her go. "I know," he said inexpressively. "Seems like I keep on hurting people."

"Ron, that's not true," said Hermione hastily. "You didn't hurt Rachel. It's not your fault if that thing happened."

"Hermione, when I first read your note near the chimney I'm not sure what I felt," he said, looking in front of him.

"W-what do you mean?" stammered Hermione.

"I'm not sure that I cared," Ron answered.

"What did you feel?"

Slowly, Ron let her wrist go, and now it was Hermione's turn to catch his arm. "Ron, what did you feel?" she asked with an urgency in her voice that she didn't intend.

Ron sighed deeply. "I don't know. I think I was – _scared_."

Hermione smiled softly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Ron, that means that you care," she whispered. "That means that you love Rachel and her baby."

Ron looked at her and Hermione saw that his eyes were shining from tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. "The baby?" he asked croakily. "I don't love the baby."

"Yes, you do," she said softly. "You do, but you didn't know it yet."

Ron looked at her. He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound exited. Hermione smiled. "You love him more than you can even imagine."

"Hermione," he interrupted her, "how can I love someone that I wished would die?"

"You didn't want the baby to die," said Hermione. "You think you wanted it, but that's not true."

"How do you know?"

Hermione came closer to Ron and kissed him softly on his lips. "You were scared; you cared for the life of your daughter and her child."

Ron looked at her with his eyes wide, trying to convince himself that what his wife was saying was the truth, but it was hard. He felt so guilty, even if he knew that it wasn't his fault if Rachel had almost lost her baby. He felt guilty because he knew that the baby was his grandson, and if he died that very day he wouldn't even have the chance to show his love to him. Ron was afraid because he was going to lose someone of his family, and the fear was amplified by the fact that the last time that he had thought about that unborn child, he wished that it would have never exited.

"Ron?"

Ron looked at Hermione and smiled. "How do you know always everything?" he asked softly.

"I'm a little Know-It-All, remember that," she answered, smiling back.

"I know," he said. Then his smile faded away as he said, "Do you think that Rachel will forgive me?"

"I think that it's you that has to forgive her for her behaviour. I mean, on Christmas day you'd already asked her to forgive you, and she has been very mean – but, Ron, you have to understand her, the pregnancy and everything, she was-"

"I know," answered Ron, cutting her off. "I just want to start over on the right foot."

"You will," answered Hermione.

"Ron! Hermione!"

They both turned their heads towards the door, where a panting Ginny was trying to catch her breath, with her hands on her knees. She looked at them. "What happened?" she asked.

---

The first thing that Ginny said after she listened to what happened to Rachel was that she had never heard of something like that; and she meant both that someone was able to Apparate after only one lesson and that a pregnant woman could have left her baby behind while Apparating.

"Rachel is great – I mean, Apparating at the first lesson," said Ron after a while.

Both Ginny and Hermione glared at him. "Yes, she's fantastic, but she shouldn't have done something like that," said Hermione. "Not at all."

"I know," sighed Ron. "But would you ever guess that she could manage to do it just before the first lesson ended?"

Hermione shook her head.

"She's all her mother," concluded Ginny.

Ron looked at her expectantly, but Ginny didn't add anything about the father. He was going to say something, but at that very moment the door opened and a Healer entered the waiting room from Rachel's quarters.

"She's awake," she said, passing in front of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny with some bloody gauze.

"How does she feel?" asked Hermione anxiously.

The Healer stopped and looked at her. "She's in shock. Now her boyfriend is with her, but I think that they have almost finished. I heard her say that she wants to see her parents."

As the Healer exited from the waiting room, Emeric entered from the opposite door. He seemed quite calm, but still extremely pale. He glanced at Ginny and Hermione and then he looked at Ron.

"I think that she wants to talk to you," said Emeric to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "How does she feel?" she asked, concerned.

Emeric shook his head and collapsed on a chair. "Not too well. But she's awake."

Ron nodded. He stood up and turned towards Hermione, offering her a hand to help her up; Hermione didn't take it. She raised her eyes and looked at him. "Go on, you have to talk to her," she said slowly.

Ron looked at her and gulped. "M-maybe it's better if you come with me."

"No," she said firmly. "It's something you have to do by yourself."

"But you are her mother and-"

"Ron, go on and talk to her. And, please, hurry up, I want to see my daughter," said Hermione.

Ron turned and walked uncertainly towards the door of Rachel's room, passing in front of Emeric, patting the younger boy's shoulder awkwardly.

He pushed the door open and entered.

The bedroom was extremely white. There were two rows of three beds on each side of the door, but only the bed near the window was taken. Between the beds there were some bedside-tables and chairs galore. Ron walked slowly towards the last bed on his right and sat on a chair near the bottom of it. He looked at Rachel for the first time, and saw that she was looking back at him.

Rachel was wearing one of those white dresses that they make you wear when you are in a hospital. She had some little needles in her left arm and a large amount of gauze around her head. She seemed so pale that she was barely recognizable amongst the whiteness of the room. But there she was, looking at her father as if she were a five-year-old child that had just made a mess.

"Hey," Ron said awkwardly.

Rachel didn't answer, and she didn't move. She kept on looking at her father, holding her breath.

Then she buried her head in her hands and started to cry.

Ron looked at Rachel and, for a long moment, really saw his daughter again. He stretched an arm towards her and started to brush her hair, bushy as Hermione's and red as his.

Rachel stretched her arms towards Ron and he hugged her. Ron felt her tears running down his neck and started to whisper into her ear, "Shhh, honey, Dad is here."

Rachel sniffled noisily and let him go. "I'm a terrible mother," she said, sobbing.

Ron looked at her, waiting for everything but that. "No, Rachel, you are not. You are-"

Rachel sobbed louder and said, "You were right, I'm too young to have a baby. I almost killed him."

Ron would have given everything to not have said anything like that. "Rachel, you are not a terrible mother, and yes, you are young, but not too young to have a baby."

Rachel looked at her father with her eyes filled with tears. "Emeric and I had a row," she said, out of the blue. "No, not now," she added quickly, noticing the look of pure disgust on her father's face. "Before the Apparition lesson. He told me that I shouldn't have been at the lesson at all and I got angry with him." She looked at Ron. "Does he care for our child more than I do?" she asked in a bare whisper.

"No," said Ron quickly. "No, he doesn't. He cares as much as you do. You just did – you didn't know what would have happened."

"Madam Pomfrey told me that I shouldn't have done it. She said that it could be very dangerous for the baby," she said, rubbing her stomach. "But I didn't listen to her. I thought that I was too intelligent to do anything that would harm my child." She looked at her father. "I'm really stupid, aren't I?"

Ron stood up from the chair and sat down on the bed, near Rachel. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pushed her towards him. "You are not stupid. You are intelligent, just like your mother: always the best in everything. The best marks at school, the best witch who casts spells and charms, and the best mother in the world."

Rachel looked at her father with her mouth open. "D-do you really think that? I was afraid that I would have never passed the Apparition test if I didn't follow all the lessons, and I almost killed my child because I was afraid of falling behind the others."

Ron nodded. "It's just that you want to excel in everything, exactly like your mother. But you can't be the best in everything you do. It's all right to make mistakes; you are only human. You wanted to do two things at the same time, but you can't. Sometimes you just have to stop and think what's really worth being the best."

Rachel nodded and leaned her head on her father's shoulder, she sniffled quietly for the last time before asking, "A-are you still angry with me?"

Ron smiled and, placing his index finger under her chin, made her look at him. "I was afraid that _you_ were angry with me."

Rachel smiled back and another tear fell down her cheek. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Not at all. I felt so bad after what happened on Christmas day that I couldn't have been angry with you."

"Well, I'm not angry with you, either," said Ron calmly.

Rachel nodded. "And Emeric?" she asked, unsure.

"Emeric what?" asked Ron, confused.

"Y-you aren't going to try to kill him, are you?"

Ron's mouth curled into a soft smile. "No."

Rachel let out the breath that she didn't know she was holding.

"He's quite a good boy," said Ron unexpectedly. "For a Malfoy," he added quickly.

Rachel smiled and touched her belly.

Ron lowered his eyes and stretched the hand that was not behind Rachel's back over her stomach without touching it. "Can I?" he asked awkwardly.

Rachel took her father's hand and guided it to her stomach. "Can you feel it?" she asked him softly.

Ron nodded, speechless. He felt the bloated stomach of his daughter under his fingers and, dived by a thin layer of skin, the vague shape of the body of his grandson, unusually motionless. He saw Rachel's belly rise as she inspired deeply.

"Usually the baby moves more, but I haven't felt him since I woke up," she said, and Ron raised his head just in time to see more tears falling down her cheeks.

"The baby will be fine," he whispered to her, before kissing her on her hair. He hoped to sound more convincing than how he actually felt.

"The Healer said that the future of my child will be decided in the next two days." Rachel looked at Ron with puffy eyes. "How can I survive the next days with the thought that my child could die and that – that it is all my fault?" she asked, starting to cry again.

Ron hugged his daughter tightly and started to rock her gently. "It's not your fault, Rachel," he whispered.

"It is," she said, sobbing.

Ron let her go and took her shoulders. "Listen," he said, looking into her eyes, "if you knew that you would have harmed your baby so badly, would you have ever attended that lesson?" he asked seriously.

Rachel lowered her eyes and shook her head. "No," she murmured.

Ron loosened the grip on her shoulders and smiled. "That's what I thought."

Rachel smiled softly. "I'm so stupid," she said again.

"Well, you are also my daughter, not only Hermione's. A little bit of stupidity is expected," he said sweetly.

"Oh, dad!" exclaimed Rachel, burying her head in his chest.

Ron stroked her hair delicately and kissed her softly on her head. "Better if I go out and let your mother and your Aunt Ginny come in and see you," he said, removing the arm from her back.

Rachel nodded and Ron got up from the bed. He moved towards the door and stopped when he heard his daughter calling him.

"Yes?" he said, turning.

"Dad, can you tell Emeric to come in after Mum and Aunt Ginny have gone?" she asked.

Ron looked at her with an unreadable expression, then, slowly, his lips curled into a smile. "Of course, Rachel," he said before opening the door.

"Dad!" she called him again.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, Rachel."


	27. Visiting Time

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: Well, hope you like the last chapter I've updated, and hope you'll like this one as well. This part of the story was worth spending more than one chapter on. See? Ron is not as bad as everybody thinks…

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for your help and I'm happy that you graduated!

**Visiting Time**

As Ron exited from Rachel's room he found three pairs of eyes aimed at him. He looked from Ginny to Hermione to Emeric and noticed that they were all holding their breath.

He nodded slightly and said to Hermione and Ginny, "Rachel is waiting for you."

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off her husband, desperately waiting for a sign that things were back to normal between him and their daughter, but Ron didn't say anything.

"Ron? With Rachel, is everything-"

"Hermione, everything is perfectly fine with my child," he said, and couldn't help but smile. "But now, she needs her mother."

Hermione nodded and rushed into Rachel's room, followed closely by Ginny. Emeric and Ron could hear some cries and sobs coming from both Hermione and Rachel, before the door closed behind them and an awkward silence fell between them.

Emeric didn't dare raise his eyes to meet Ron's, but he knew that the older man was looking at him, and when Ron cleared his throat and Emeric looked up, he finally met his girlfriend's father's eyes.

"Rachel asked if you could stay with her after my wife finishes," said Ron calmly.

Emeric looked at him and nodded. "Yes, sir," he answered politely.

Ron nodded back, then he smiled. "You know, you don't look like a Malfoy at all," he said unexpectedly.

Emeric smiled too. "That's what my father keeps on saying, but he's not very happy when he says that."

Ron laughed. It was the first time that he laughed in front of Emeric. "I'm happy that you don't look too much like your grandfather."

Emeric looked at him and raised his eyebrows, he would have expected Ron to say his father, not his grandfather. "Really?"

Ron nodded. "You know, boy, your father is already quite better than your grandfather," said Ron with great effort. He didn't like to say nice things about Draco Malfoy. "And you are even better than him. Which means that, after all, you are not so bad."

Emeric looked at him with his eyes wide. "T-thanks, sir," he stammered, without being able to understand if it was a compliment or not.

"Well, you know it's been a while that I haven't kept in touch with my daughter, and my wife and I didn't use to speak about you two after you gave us the news of the baby, but I was wondering something," said Ron calmly.

Emeric nodded.

"Have you already planned the wedding?" asked Ron casually.

Emeric choked. "The w-wedding, sir?" he asked.

Ron nodded.

"No, we haven't. We have not yet talked about that."

"But you are going to marry her, right?" asked Ron, and Emeric couldn't help noticing a note of impatience.

Emeric swallowed nervously, twisting the hands in his lap. "We want to finish school first," he answered.

Ron nodded. "And have you thought about your child? Who's going to take care of the baby while you'll be at school next year?"

Emeric's eyes widened even more than before, but not because of Ron's pressing questions, but because of the people that had just appeared at the door.

He didn't have the time to say anything before a tall woman with black hair threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Mother, I can't breath," said Emeric stiffly after a while, as his usually pale face turned purple. Draco stood next to her, an unreadable expression on his face. He was looking intently at Emeric, as if checking if he was all right.

Pansy didn't let him go. "Oh, my poor, poor son," she said, crying. "What a terrible disaster. Where did they take the corpse? We want to bury it in the Malfoy cemetery."

"Parkin – I mean, Malfoy," said Ron. "Let your son go, as the only corpse to bury in the Malfoy cemetery will be his."

Pansy let go of Emeric and looked at Ron. "What do you mean?"

"Mother," said Emeric, breathing deeply. "The child and Rachel are both fine."

"B-but, we heard that there was a terrible accident and that they were both – _dead_," said Pansy in a bare whisper.

"Sorry, but they are fine. At least Rachel is; the future of the baby depends if he'll be able to survive the next two days," explained Ron. "Deluded?" he added rudely.

Pansy's eyes flashed dangerously. She crossed the waiting room with quick steps and did something that nobody would have ever expected: she slapped Ron across his cheek.

"Who do you think I am?" hissed Pansy. "I do care for my relatives. I do care for that baby." She eyed Ron as if he was a sack of dragon dug. "I care more than you do."

Ron glared at her. "I care for the baby," he said rudely, rubbing his cheek.

"You really have a peculiar way of showing that," Pansy declared.

Ron first turned very red, and then quite green.

"Well, if he's here, that means that he cares," said Emeric diplomatically.

Pansy glared at him and then at Ron. She opened her mouth to reply with something venomous, but her husband preceded her.

"Better later than never," said Draco with a scornful smile.

Ron glared at him, but he didn't reply. There was a part of his brain that agreed with them, but he would never have said that, not even under torture.

"So, what were you saying about _my_ _grandson_?" asked Draco, and Ron couldn't help noticing that he stressed the words 'my' and 'grandson' in a very strong way.

"_My grandson_," started Ron, "is fine."

"Where is _my daughter-in-law_?" asked Draco haughtily.

Ron glared at him with unconcealed disbelief. "She's not your daughter-in-law yet, Malfoy. _My daughter_ is in that room with _my wife_ and _my sister_," said Ron, nodding towards the door on the other side of the room.

"Is that a private room?" asked Draco, ignoring Ron's comments.

Ron frowned. "No, but she's the only patient in there."

"I want her to be moved into a private room," said Draco. "She's bearing _my grandson_, who is a _Malfoy_. I don't want her to stay with whomever else will have to recover there."

Ron, Emeric and Pansy couldn't help looking at him with their eyes wide.

"She's fine in there," said Ron. "There's no need to move her to another place."

"She's not fine. She could wake up one morning and find a werewolf in the bed next to her. Do you want something like that to happen to her?" asked Draco sourly.

"Malfoy, this is the maternity ward," pointed out Ron.

"A pregnant, female werewolf."

"You are talking nonsense."

"I'm going to talk to the head nurse," said Draco, not even listening to what Ron was saying and walking out of the waiting room.

Ron followed him with his eyes and then looked at Pansy. "Wasn't he the one that tried to give my daughter an aborting potion?"

Pansy shrugged her shoulders as she sat down next to her son. "He has accepted the facts and changed his mind about this baby," she explained calmly.

"Accepted the facts? It looks like he's the happiest man on Earth," spat out Ron. "That's quite disgusting," he added, pretending to feel a shiver running down his spine.

Pansy glared at him. "Draco can be very sweet if he wants."

"Unluckily he never wants to be," muttered Ron, just in time to be heard by Draco, who was coming back right at that moment. He looked Ron up to down, then he turned his back to him and said to Pansy, "They are going to move her very soon. I ordered a suite, but they said that they haven't any suites in this place."

"It's a hospital, Malfoy," Ron interrupted him.

"I know Weasley," retorted Draco, without turning. "They are going to move her to a big, sunny, airy room. Which I have booked for the next ten months."

Emeric frowned. "Father, you know that the baby will be born in June, right?"

"Yes, Emeric, you might have mentioned that," said Draco, sitting next to Pansy.

"And you know that June is in four months, right?"

"I'm pretty good with Maths, Emeric." Draco looked at Ron and smirked. "I spend the whole day counting the money that I've scattered through the house."

Ron made a very rude gesture with his fingers right when the door of Rachel's room opened and Hermione and Ginny exited.

"Ron!" shrieked Hermione, indignantly. "What are you doing?"

Ron rolled his eyes and nodded towards the Malfoys. Hermione looked from Pansy to Draco. "Hey," she said to them in a quite surprised tone of voice, "what are you doing here?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What do you mean? My grandson is in danger of life, I have all the right to be here."

"_Your_ grandson?" asked Ginny, giving form to everybody's silent question. "Since when is it _your grandson_ and not 'that baby'?"

Draco shrugged with haughtiness. "I don't think it's any of your business, right, Weaslette?"

Ginny seemed ready to jump on him. "My name is Potter now," she hissed.

Draco sighed. "Sorry. Right, Pott-head?"

Pansy smirked and Emeric paled; he stretched out an arm and pulled his father by the sleeve of his robe. Draco turned and noticed that Emeric was gesturing at him to sit down. He looked at him, surprised, for this was the first time that his son told him to do something, but he sat down and stayed quiet, waiting for Ginny to retaliate.

But Ginny, who seemed to have mentally counted until ten, was everything but ready to trade insults. She knew better than everybody that in a hospital, you weren't allowed to scream, nor to jinx somebody.

Since nobody was talking and the silence was becoming a little bit awkward, Hermione decided to try to start a civil conversation, even if she didn't know how civil could it have been with the Malfoys. She sat down next to Ron and took his hand between hers.

"So," she started, talking to the people sitting opposite her. "Are you here to visit Rachel?"

Ron jerked his head towards her with such force that everybody in the waiting room heard a loud crack coming from his neck. "What?" he asked, bemused.

"Of course we are," answered Draco, without hiding a smirk.

"I'm not going to leave them all alone with my daughter," protested Ron.

"We have all the right to see her," shrieked Pansy. "She's already one of the family."

"She's not," replied Ron curtly.

"She'll be soon," answered Draco.

"Well, right now she's not. Her surname is still Weasley," spat Ron.

"I know," sighed Draco, pretending to feel sorry for her. "Poor thing."

Hermione felt Ron's arm's muscles stiffen under hands, and she tightened her grip on him.

"Well," continued Draco, "luckily she'll soon be a Malfoy."

"Not so soon," said Ron quickly. "And her surname will be Weasley-Malfoy."

Draco glared at him. "I won't allow her to place her surname near mine."

"And I won't allow her to have only your surname," replied Ron sourly.

"Oh, stop it!" shrieked Hermione. "Both of you," she added as Draco was smirking at Ron. "Rachel is in there, and she's waiting for Emeric to enter, but if you want to see her, you better go in first, so that you'll see her and then you'll let her rest."

Draco and Pansy looked at her annoyed because they knew that she was right. "Okay," muttered Pansy, sitting up.

"Should I come in too?" asked Emeric promptly as his father stood up as well.

"No," said Draco at the same moment in which Ron answered, "Yes."

They glared at each other. "No, it will take us only a couple of minutes," said Draco calmly.

"I'll count them down on my watch," hissed Ron.

"Great, Weasley, that means that you can count," Draco hissed back.

Ron tried to stand up, but Hermione restrained him, and with a last glare, he watched the Malfoys disappear inside his daughter's room.

---

When Rachel raised her eyes she was sure that she would have met Emeric's eyes, and she wasn't sure about how she was feeling about the discovery that none of the people who entered were the father of her child.

She tried to smile, but she was too surprised to do anything but stare.

Draco and Pansy walked to her bed and stopped at the bottom of it.

"Good morning, sunshine," said Pansy with a wide, sugary smile.

That was the first time that Emeric's mother had talked to her, and Rachel was a bit nervous.

"Good morning," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady. She wasn't sure about their mood; they could have been happy that she had almost succeeded in killing the subject of all their problems, or they could have been mad at her because she had almost killed the future heir of their family.

"How are you feeling?" asked Draco in a very formal way.

Every time that someone asked her that in the last hours she always started to cry, because she was fine, but her baby wasn't. But at that moment she held back her tears.

"F-fine, I think," she answered.

Draco nodded, his face unreadable. "Good. What about the baby?"

Rachel looked from him to Pansy, her bottom lip trembling. "I don't know," she answered in a bare whisper. "I can't feel him moving."

"What did the Healers say?" asked Pansy.

"That we have to wait two days before we can be sure that the baby will survive," she said, her voice broken.

"They are going to move you," said Draco unexpectedly.

Rachel looked at him and for a moment she didn't understand what he was talking about. "Move me?" she asked.

"To a better room," answered Draco matter-of-factly. "A private room. With all the comfort that is expected for a Malfoy."

Rachel couldn't help smiling a little. "A Malfoy?"

Draco nodded. "Even if you aren't yet technically a Malfoy, you'll be soon, right?"

"I guess so," she said.

"Good, plus your baby is already a Malfoy, and I want the best for my family," said Draco seriously.

Rachel nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said, smiling.

Draco's mouth curled into what Rachel firstly though was a smirk, but then discovered that it actually was a smile. "You are welcome," he answered, as he and Pansy turned their backs to her.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," Rachel called to them, "would you _feel _your grandson?" she asked shyly.

Draco's eyes widened as he said, "What?" in a surprised tone.

Rachel lowered her eyes and blushed. "I understand if you don't want to, but I thought that you would like – I'm sure the baby would like to-" Rachel's words died in her throat as Draco took some steps towards her and his hand came closer to her stomach.

He stopped some inches from her belly. Rachel placed her thin hand on his wrist and positioned Draco's hand delicately on her stomach, just like she did with her own father earlier.

"This is the head," explained Rachel, "and this is the body."

She felt Draco's hand shaking under hers, then he pulled back and looked at her with a confused expression.

Rachel smiled at him, and he smiled back again. Then it was Pansy's turn to touch her stomach.

When Draco exited he felt light-headed, and his heart beat frantically against his chest. He didn't even hear when Ron told him something, he simply sat down next to Emeric with a little smile on his face.

---

Rachel was moved to another room that very evening. It was the most luxurious room in the hospital and had another bed for Emeric too. The next two days passed quite quickly and Rachel received a lot of visits: her grandparents, her aunts and uncles and some of her friends and professors; but she was too upset about the baby to even pay attention to them.

When the Healer entered her room in the morning of the second day, she looked at him with her eyes wide and a very pale face.

"Miss Weasley, we have the results of the last tests," he said, sitting down on a chair.

Emeric, who was sitting on the bed near her, squeezed her hand and bit his bottom lip as he waited for the Healer to continue.


	28. Boy or Girl

Disclaimer: Only the second generation characters are from my own imagination.

A/N: So, isn't that what everybody was waiting for? I hope so… Well, it was hard to decide the gender, but I couldn't resist. Anyway, hope you'll like it, and I hope to update soon. Let me know what you think!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks for helping me and for all the nice comments.

**Boy or Girl?**

Rachel felt her heart slowing down. Emeric's hand in her own seemed so tight that she was sure he was hurting her, but she couldn't tell him to let go; she wasn't even sure she could remember how to speak.

She looked at the Healer. Where the hell were her parents? She remembered that they had to go home that very day, both of them called by the Ministry of Magic as they hadn't been to work in almost two days. At the Ministry, everybody knew about their daughter's situation, but there were some important problems that needed their presence there.

Luckily, Emeric had obtained permission to stay with her until they would know something about the baby, so now there they were facing the Healer, who looked at them intently with his serious eyes.

"As I was saying, we have the results of the tests," repeated the Healer, patting some sheets that lay on his knees.

Rachel and Emeric nodded, their eyes fixed on him. "And?" asked Rachel in a bare whisper.

"Well, I have to say that firstly I thought that there were very few possibilities for your child to survive. I was sure that we should have induced you into an unnatural birth, and maybe we could have tried to keep the baby alive for some months before there was nothing else to do," said the Healer, sighing.

Rachel's eyes were so wide that they were the biggest thing on her face, and Emeric was so pale that seemed almost transparent. He cleared his throat and said, "What were you planning to do with our child?"

The Healer sighed another time. "We would have asked your permission, of course, but that seemed the most natural thing to do, not only to me but to all the people that I've consulted."

"That's barbaric," sentenced Rachel indignantly. "I would have never permitted something like that."

"If we came to something like that there would not have been other possibilities. Your child would have died in any case," said the Healer firmly.

Rachel burst into tears.

The Healer smiled unexpectedly. "Miss Weasley, if we are talking about the worst-case scenario, there must be good news," he said calmly.

Rachel looked at the Healer with teary eyes. "Really?" she asked softly, and as the Healer nodded, she wiped away some of her tears with the palm of her hand.

"The baby will survive," said the Healer.

"I-is the baby fine?" asked Emeric.

"We can say that," answered the Healer.

Rachel brought her hand to her stomach and stood still. "B-but I can't feel him moving," she whispered.

The Healer's smile grew wider. He stood up, walked towards Rachel and waved his wand over her stomach. The first thing that she felt was a soft kick on her right part of the stomach.

"Ouch," she groaned, touching that spot.

"What?" asked Emeric, alarmed.

Rachel looked at him and, without a word, she threw her arms around his neck, and started to sob quietly on his shoulder.

Emeric looked at the Healer, worried, but he had already gotten up and placed the results of the tests on a white table right next to Rachel's bed.

As the door closed behind the Healer, Emeric started to stroke Rachel's hair. "Hey, what's wrong?" he whispered into her ear.

Rachel let him go and kissed him on his lips. "Nothing is wrong," she whispered between small kisses.

Emeric seized her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Did the baby – _move_?" he asked, excited.

Rachel nodded, and now it was Emeric's turn to hug her. When he let her go, he placed a hand on her belly and started to rub it delicately, while Rachel leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I wanted to thank you," said Rachel suddenly.

"Really?" he asked with a bit of confusion.

He felt her nodding on his shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because when you visited me the first time you didn't say 'I told you so,'" she said.

Emeric smiled. "Well, you know, I was really tempted to tell you, 'I told you not to attend that stupid lesson,'" said Emeric.

"And what restrained you from saying so?" she asked, enlacing her fingers with his on her stomach.

"You."

"Me?"

"Your face, your eyes, your pallor," he said sweetly. "It really looked like that the last thing you needed was someone who screamed at you that you had been a fool."

"You know that I'm really sorry, don't you?" she said.

"After two days that you kept on screaming that it's all your fault and that you are the most terrible mother, yes, I know," he whispered. "But you are not the worst mother in the world."

"No," she said firmly. "Because I'm not yet a mother."

"No, because you are not. That's all," he murmured.

It seemed like hours passed until she answered with a muffled, "Thank you," against his neck.

"You are welcome," he murmured, stroking her fingers between his.

---

When Hermione entered Rachel's room, she saw the sweetest scene that she has ever seen right in front of her: Rachel slept peacefully in Emeric's arms. She tried to step back as quietly as she could, but unluckily she crashed against one of the many armchairs that stood in the room. She cursed under her breath against Draco Malfoy, who had decided personally to re-furnish that bedroom with many and many green and silver armchairs and couches.

Both Rachel and Emeric opened their eyes as they heard the loud sound caused by someone bumping against the armchair near the door. Everybody banged against it.

"Mum?" called Rachel as she saw her mother rubbing her knee. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, Rachel," she said through gritted teeth, then she turned towards Emeric. "Did your father really have to bring all these armchairs from the Manor?"

Emeric shrugged. "Sorry, but he wants this place to be as comfortable as possible when he comes here to visit."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That means that he likes to find himself in a maze?"

Emeric shrugged again and smiled. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," he answered.

Hermione snorted, but smiled too. "It's okay," she said as calmly as she could. "So," she continued, "any news from the Healer?"

Rachel and Emeric looked at each and started to laugh, which caused Hermione to come to two possible causes: first, the Healer could have actually passed by and given them some good news; second, they have gone insane. Hermione felt a little bit guilty to think that the second option was almost more plausible than the first one.

When their laughter faded away, Rachel looked at her mother and smiled widely. "Yes, some good news actually," she said.

"Really?" asked Hermione, walking towards Rachel's bed and paying lots of attention not to trip over the numerous coffee tables that were placed between the armchairs. "And what did he say?"

Rachel looked Emeric before screaming out, "I'm gonna have the baby!"

Hermione looked at her for a while, dazed by her words. When she recovered from the shock, she threw her arms around her daughter's neck and started to kiss her head.

"Oh, mum," said Rachel, hugging her. "I'm so happy."

"I'm happy too, Rachel," answered Hermione, her voice broken. "I want to know everything."

Rachel nodded and while Hermione sat next to her daughter and started to listen to her story, Emeric slid down from the bed and picked up the sheets with the results of the tests that Rachel had done.

Emeric just heard Hermione saying that very likely the Healer had stopped the baby's movements to limit the damage, before diving into a lecture which, he was sure, he was going to understand very little of, since he didn't have any medical preparation, but nonetheless he wanted to give the two women a little bit of privacy, so he tried to close his mind to their chats and concentrated on the untidy writing of the Healer. He read lines and lines about the position of the foetus, Rachel's weight and the percentage of white blood cells in their blood, without understanding much except that he had to pull Rachel's leg about gaining some weight. But when he finally reached the bottom of the document he let out a surprised shriek.

"What?" asked Rachel, turning her head instinctively towards him while Hermione looked at him curiously.

Emeric raised his eyes from the piece of sheet that he was reading and looked at her bemused. "There's the gender," he muttered.

"Really?" asked Rachel, smiling widely. "What is it?"

Emeric shook his head.

"What?" Rachel looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

"I don't know," he answered, disconsolate.

"What do you mean you don't know?" asked Rachel impatiently. "Does it say 'male' or 'female'?" she added as if she was talking to a five-year-old boy.

Emeric stuck out his tongue at her, in a way that made him really look like a five-year-old boy. Rachel couldn't help smiling a little, despite her curiosity.

"I'm not stupid," said Emeric. "There's no 'male' or 'female' here. There's only written 'gender' and then there's a small circle."

"A circle?" asked Rachel. "What does it mean?" She looked at her mother, hoping that she could have helped her, but her mother didn't seem to know more than her.

"I don't know," answered Hermione. "Maybe there's a little legend at the bottom of the document, isn't there?"

Emeric shook his head. "No, there isn't."

"Well, then you better wait for the Healer to tell you what it means," said Hermione calmly.

Rachel looked at her as if she was from another planet. "Wait for the Healer?" she exclaimed. "You must be crazy, mum, I'm not gonna wait for him, I'll look for somebody," she added, pulling away the sheets.

"You are not going anywhere, Rachel," said Hermione firmly, pushing her daughter down on the bed.

"I want to know what gender my baby is," protested Rachel.

"It's not important if your baby is a male or a female, the important thing is that he's fine. And now he is," said Hermione seriously.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I know, and I'm the happiest girl on Earth, but, mum, I'm really curious." She turned towards Emeric and said, "Go and find the Healer."

Emeric looked at her and grimaced. "I didn't hear the magic word," he said playfully.

Rachel smirked. "_Imperio_?" she asked maliciously.

Emeric snorted, trying to sound indignant, but couldn't help smiling. "No, try again."

"_Crucio_?"

"Nope."

"_Avada Kedavra_?"

"No, but this review of the Dark spells is quite useful," he said, grinning.

"Thanks, well, are you going?" asked Rachel.

"I still didn't hear the-"

"Oh, my gosh! Emeric, aren't you curious to know the gender of your child?" asked Rachel.

"Yes, I am, but your mother is right, the most important thing is that the baby is fine and that-"

"Oh, of course!" exclaimed Rachel, patting her forehead with her palm. "You are afraid to go looking for the Healer!"

"What? Why should I be afraid?" asked Emeric ,bemused.

"Because you are afraid of Healers," she said nonchalantly. "Your mother told me."

"What?" he asked indignantly. "That's not true!"

"Prove it," she said calmly.

Emeric stood up and gave Rachel the sheets. "I'll prove you!" he said forcefully. "See me, Miss Weasley? I'm going to find the Healer," he said, exiting and slamming the door behind him.

Hermione looked at Rachel, who smiled sweetly. "He's not afraid of Healers, is he?" asked Hermione.

"Not that I know of," answered Rachel, giggling. "I learned from you. Aren't I intelligent?"

Hermione smiled softly. "That was wicked, but yeah, rather intelligent."

"I've got him now," said Rachel and pretended to laugh maniacally. When her fake laughs faded away, she sighed and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "When is he gonna come back?"

Hermione looked at her with a frown. "Rachel, he just left," she answered.

"I know, but he's so slow," Rachel said, frustrated.

"Oh, Rachel, come on. It's just the gender; it's not as if the baby will or won't survive," sighed Hermione.

"I know, but I'm terribly curious. Weren't you curious when you expected me?"

"Your father was," answered Hermione. "He brought me every week to St. Mungo's, just to ask if you were big enough to determine the gender."

"What did he want?"

"A boy, naturally," said Hermione.

"And was he disappointed when you find out that I wasn't a boy?" asked Rachel, afraid.

"Actually, no," answered Hermione. "He thought he would have been, but he wasn't. He was too excited to become a father for the first time to be worried about your gender."

"What about with Malcolm and Daniel?"

"He wanted to know what Malcolm was, but he didn't care about Daniel; he already had a girl and a boy. He was fine," answered Hermione, smiling.

"I really hope that it will be a-"

"Shhh!" Hermione placed a finger on her mouth. "Don't say it, because you know that whatever it will be you'll be happy anyway."

Rachel looked at her and nodded, then she hugged her tightly whispering, "I love you, mum."

They heard some footsteps coming closer to the door and when it burst open, Emeric stood there with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, looking like he had ran the whole way.

"So?" asked Rachel, letting go of her mother.

Emeric took a deep breath. "I know what it is," he said finally.

"And?" asked Rachel with urgency in her voice.

Emeric smiled wickedly. "The magic word?"

"What about: 'you-are-gonna-sleep-on-the-couch-for-the-rest-of-your-life-if-you-don't-tell-me-quickly-the-gender-of-my-child'?"

"It's not exactly like you have asked me to go live with you in the future," said Emeric, smiling.

"If you don't tell me the gender of my baby you won't have any future," she said.

Emeric looked Rachel and smiled. "If you really insist, my darling, we are gonna have a _boy_."

"Really?" she asked softly.

Emeric nodded, and his smile faded away when he spotted some tears running down Rachel's cheek. "Oh no, not again. What's wrong now, Rachel?" he asked, coming closer to her and stretching his arms to give her a hug, but Rachel pushed him away.

"Shut up," she said, sobbing and smiling at the same time. "Can't I cry from happiness?"


	29. Stay Together for the Kids

Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be. And not even the title, which is from a song by the Blink 182. As always there's a chapter in my story where the title is a song.

A/N: No! Oh, my gosh! I can't remember who asked if I was going to stop posting new chapters of this story once DH was out, but… oh my gosh! No! Absolutely NO! N-O! Got it? It'll never happen that one of my stories will be left unfinished. So, don't worry at all. About the chapter… I love it, it's pretty funny and I swear that from now on the chapters will be much more fun. Oh, by the way, J.K.R. has managed to make even this story an AU. Oh, I'm very, very not-so-modest but I prefer the names I gave to the characters' children, rather than the ones J.K. has chosen for them. (I mean, Scorpion? Come on… Okay, the only good thing with that name is that Word isn't underling it as it did with Emeric…). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed DH as much as I did! (Molly rocks!!) Hope you'll like this chapter as well!

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks for the wonderful work, sweetie! And I'm sorry that I make you work even during the holidays.

**Stay Together for the Kids**

March arrived and February left. The sun started to be a little bit warmer than before, but the students still had to wear their winter school robes. Rachel and Emeric were back at school, to Emeric's great displeasure, who had tried to convince Rachel to pretend that she was sick for something like another week, so that they could avoid having to come back to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, he just gained a scolding from Rachel and a long lecture from his parents about his immaturity.

"Blimey," he muttered when he and Rachel reached the front oak doors of Hogwarts on an early Saturday morning.

"What?" asked Rachel, eyeing him intently.

"Nothing, honey," he answered quickly, knocking on the door.

She raised her eyebrows. "What did you say?" she asked again. He shook his head. "You never call me honey. What were you saying?"

"I just said 'blimey,'" he said, sighing.

"Don't say that in front of my son!" she almost screamed.

"What the hell, I just-"

"And don't say that, too!"

"What?"

"What the _you-know-what_," she answered, lowering her voice.

"You mean what the hell?"

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, bringing both her hands to her belly, pretending to cover her baby's ears. "I don't want him to learn all your terrible vocabulary."

"Rachel, he can't hear us yet," said Emeric, more amused than worried.

"How do you know?" she asked accusatorily.

Emeric opened his mouth to reply that he had never heard anywhere that babies in their mothers' stomachs could hear what people on the outside say, but he refrained himself, since he had never heard the contrary.

"The answer is that you _don't_ know," snapped Rachel.

"Okay, sorry, I don't know," he said, knocking on the door.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Knocking?"

"I can see that, I meant, why are you doing that? We were talking!"

"You are the only one talking plus it's cold and I-" His face lit up. "And I don't want you to get cold, _darling_."

She looked at him, trying to understand if he was serious, or if he just wanted to enter and make her shut her mouth. "You never call me darling," she said after a while.

"I'll start today," he answered happily as he heard some footsteps on the other side of the door.

Rachel opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off when the door opened and Hagrid appeared. "If it's not our dear couple of parents here," he said cheerfully. "Hi, Rachel. Malfoy."

Rachel flushed slightly, both from the cold and from the fact that she was not exactly accustomed to be called a "parent" yet. "Hi, Hagrid," she answered gently, then she elbowed Emeric in the ribs since he didn't have any intention of answering.

"Ouch! I mean, hello Hagrid," he said slowly. Emeric didn't have anything against him, but since the very first lesson of Care of Magical Creatures Hagrid seemed to have developed an antipathy for him, or that was what Emeric thought, since the half-giant had never given him an Outstanding.

"He can't stand me just because once my father tried to sent him away from the school, and my grandfather sent him to Azkaban for a while," had said Emeric to his fellow Slytherins during one of Hagrid's lesson in his third year. "But they had all the rights to fire someone like him," he added with a sneer, and before the sneer had disappeared from his face a little girl with red bushy hair and chocolaty eyes had _by mistake_ Levitated some dragon dung over his head and made it fall all over him.

"Emeric, come on," said Rachel. "You know that Professor McGonagall wanted to see us as soon as we came back." She looked at him from the hall of the castle with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, sorry. I was lost in thought," he answered, stepping inside the warm castle.

"Rachel, yer mother sent an owl this mornin'; she asked me ter remember yeh that today is the first of March," said Hagrid, blinking.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, patting her forehead. "My dad's birthday."

Emeric raised an eyebrow. "What are you gonna get him?"

She looked at him. "What are _we_ gonna get him, you mean."

"Yes, of course, what are _we_ gonna get him," he sighed. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Of course, I do." Emeric looked at her expectantly. "I mean, my mum suggested that we should have sent him a letter with the fact that I'm expecting a boy. That would really make his day."

"Really?" asked Emeric, happy that all they needed for his future father-in-law birthday present was a piece of parchment and a school owl.

"Sure, he will be the happiest man on Earth," she answered, climbing up the stairs behind Hagrid and next to Emeric.

"So yeh're expectin' a boy," said Hagrid, turning to look at them. "Wha' are yeh goin' ter call him?"

Rachel shrugged. "We have not yet thought about that."

"Yeh know Rubeus is a nice name," muttered Hagrid, turning and walking a little bit faster.

"Of course, if I want my son to work in a circus," murmured Emeric.

"What?" asked Hagrid.

"Yes, it's a nice name," said Emeric quickly.

Hagrid grunted something that sounded oddly like 'Malfoys' and kept on climbing up the stairs.

"Here yeh're," he said, before muttering the password to the gargoyle. "Come ter visit me one of these days, I've made somethin' fer him," he added, nodding.

"Me?" asked Emeric, surprised.

"The baby, Emeric," said Rachel, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry, can't I even pretend?"

Rachel smiled softly as she passed by him and climbed up the stone stairs that had just appeared. Emeric took a step behind her, but Hagrid held him back by his arm.

"W-what?" asked Emeric, trying to keep eye contact with Hagrid as the half-giant lowered his head to Emeric's level.

"I know that yeh're not so bad," he said seriously.

"R-really?" Emeric gulped quite noisily.

"Of course, or else someone like Rachel wouldn't stay with yeh," he assured him. "But if yeh do somethin' ter her, I'll make sure that next time yeh'll get a detention yeh'll spend it with me."

"I-I've never gotten a detention," stammered Emeric.

"Oh." Hagrid seemed surprised. "Then I'll give yeh one and be sure that yeh'll have ter spend all night in the Forbidden Forest."

Emeric gulped even more noisily than before.

"Did yeh understand?"

"Y-yes, sir," he answered quickly.

Hagrid straightened his back and smiled at Emeric from his height. "Good boy," he said, patting Emeric in what he thought was a friendly way, but all he was able to do was make a bump on his head pop up.

"Ouch!" protested Emeric, covering his head with his hands.

"Yeah, better if yeh go, now. Don't wanna have Professor McGonagall waitin', right?" he asked cheerfully.

"No, I don't think so," said Emeric, climbing the stairs two at a time and disappearing behind the gargoyle's statue.

"Where have you been?" asked Rachel as he entered the office.

"I'm sorry, I've been _held back_," he said, collapsing on a chair next to Rachel. "Good morning, Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "I better not ask you what has _held you back_, Mr. Malfoy, right?"

Emeric nodded. "Yes, you shouldn't."

"Anyway, I wanted to see you both here, because of some arrangements the other members of the Hogwarts staff and I have made for you two while you were away," she said firmly.

"Really?" asked Rachel, not sure if she should feel reassured or if she should start to panic.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes."

"For example?" demanded Emeric.

"For example Madam Pomfrey suggested that you should share a room." Rachel smiled brightly, but Emeric seemed taken aback. "Anyway, you will not share a room."

Rachel looked duped. "Why?"

"Because, first of all your parents seemed – I can't find the right word, but _horror-struck_, I think that could work – and second because we are not supposed to transform this school into a – a-"

"Hotel?" Emeric offered for her.

"Exactly, Mr Malfoy. A _hotel_. You will continue to use your own dorms, and I want as less-" She took a deep breath. "-snogging as possible in the school."

Emeric and Rachel both nodded.

"I don't want to transform this school into a day nursery as well," she added firmly. "So, just don't give bad examples to the younger students."

"Yes, Professor," said Rachel, flushing red.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "I knew that you would understand, Miss Weasley. Now back to the arrangements. I've prepared a list of things that you can and can't do from now until June because of your situation." She took out a couple of pieces of parchment and gave one to each of them. They looked down to the list and saw that it had almost a hundred entries.

"A hundred and ten," said Professor McGonagall, knowing instinctively what they were thinking. "And I want you to know all them by heart."

Rachel read the first one. "Don't snog during lessons." She looked at Emeric and then at Professor McGonagall. "But Professor, we have never done that, our relationship was a secret before the whole story came to light and-"

"I know, Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall. "I know, but we had a problem two days ago and we don't want anything else to happen in this school."

"A problem?" asked Emeric, frowning.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

"What kind of problem, Professor?"

"Well, as I wan saying, two days ago, a first year girl showed up in the Hospital Wing claiming that she was pregnant because a boy had kissed her," said Professor McGonagall, sighing.

"I bet she's a Hufflepuff," said Emeric, smiling.

Rachel looked at him as if he was out of his mind.

"Yes, she's from Hufflepuff," answered Professor McGonagall, annoyed. "But there's nothing to do with what. We don't want to make an epidemic explosion of pregnancies here, understood?"

"But she wasn't pregnant, was she?" asked Rachel shyly.

"Of course not!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall. "You don't get pregnant with a kiss – oh my! Who am I talking to? You should know these things pretty well, don't you?" she asked them with a soft smile.

Both Rachel and Emeric flushed, and they didn't answer.

"Anyway," continued Professor McGonagall back to her usual severe tone, "I want you to learn that by heart and if you don't follow every single rule listed there, you will get a detention with Hagrid. I don't know why, but he had insisted so much about having the pleasure to have a detention with you two."

Emeric swallowed some saliva, whilst Rachel seemed quite reassured. Not that she was afraid that she would have ever got a detention. Her new and principal aim was now to learn by heart those rules and come back to be the model student that she has always been.

"You may go now," said Professor McGonagall. "Ah, just one more thing," she added as they stood up. "Miss Weasley, is the baby a boy or a girl?"

Rachel couldn't help noticing some excitement in her Headmistress' voice. "A boy," she answered, smiling.

Professor McGonagall smiles back. "You may go now," she repeated.

Rachel and Emeric bid her goodbye and disappeared outside the door. As they walked down the stairs Emeric thought how close he had been to spending every second of his days with Rachel, whom he loved, but who was also incredibly moody lately. He was sure that he wouldn't have wanted to spend his entire life with anybody else but her, but he was also sure that he wouldn't have wanted to share a room with her for the next four months even if she was the last girl on Earth.

"You know that you are extremely stupid sometimes?" asked Rachel, sourly.

'_Here she goes again_,' thought Emeric. "Can I ask you why?" he asked patiently.

"You were late for the meeting," she snapped quickly. "And then you said that stupid thing about that Hufflepuff girl and-"

"Stupid? I'm a genius, I predicted that she was a Hufflepuff and she really was a Hufflepuff," he said proudly.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Come on, or else I'll kiss you right here and make you have a detention," she said rather seriously, seizing his arm and dragging him out of the castle.

Emeric raised his eyebrows. "Okay, now you are scaring me and where are we going?"

"Didn't you hear Hagrid?"

"Oh, of course I did," he muttered.

"Then I just want to do that quickly and then go to Gryffindor Tower and take a shower before lunch," she said, walking as fast as her condition permitted her to do on the Hogwarts grounds.

"Do what?" asked Emeric, stopping abruptly and making her turn.

Rachel was surprised to see him sweating copiously even if it was quite cold out there. "What do you mean by do what?"

"You talked about Hagrid," he murmured.

"Yeah, Emeric, he told me to remember that thing," she said.

"Oh my, Rachel!" he exclaimed. "What did I do? Yeah, I was late for the meeting with the Headmistress, but I didn't do that on purpose – I mean there's no need to tell Hagrid about that, he wouldn't be happy. I just wanted to-"

Rachel let go of his hand and slapped him hard on his cheek. He stopped taking all of a sudden. "What was that for?" he asked, touching the spot on his cheek.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "You were hysteric," she answered simply. "And all this for a stupid letter, if I wasn't sure that that was impossible I would have said that you were the one pregnant."

"Yeah, very funny and – wait! A letter?" he asked, surprised.

"Emeric, the letter for my dad," she answered as if she was talking to a five-year-old boy. "Can you remember that we have to send him a letter in which we'll tell him that he's gonna have a grandson and thus make him the happiest grandfather in the world?"

"Oh," he murmured. "You know, now that you are saying it, I think I remember."

"Great," she said sarcastically. "Now, we best move."

They hurried towards the Owlery. Emeric helped Rachel up the stairs, since some of the last stairs were still covered with ice.

"Thanks," she said. "Now, will you lend me your back, please?"

"My back?"

"Yep, I need a place to write the letter."

"Why don't you use that wall?"

"Oh gosh, Emeric, it's filthy," she answered, looking at the owl dung that covered almost every inch of the walls and floor. "Come on, you just have to stay still," she added, making him turn around.

Emeric sighed. "Don't press too much with the quill."

"Don't be a baby," she said, slapping jokingly his head. "Now." She pulled a parchment and a quill out of her pocket and put them on Emeric's back. "Dear Dad – blah, blah, blah – Hope you'll have a nice birthday – blah, blah, blah – What did you receive?"

"Let me guess. Blah, blah, blah?"

"Great, are you a Seer?" she asked tonelessly, but Emeric felt the quill dig a little bit in his back. "And you are going to have a grandson – blah, blah, blah – Love from Rachel and Emeric."

Emeric felt the pressure of her weight on his back decreasing and as he turned he found Rachel deep in re-reading the letter.

"Perfect!" she exclaimed after a while.

"I hope you did write something different from 'blah, blah, blah' sometimes."

"No, it sounded so great in the context that I preferred to leave it," she answered sarcastically. "Dad will be the happiest parent on Earth, I assure you," she added while she tied the letter up to a school owl.

"I really hope so," said Emeric, watching the owl flying away. "At least I did something good, didn't I?"

---

"I'm gonna kill him!" roared Ron as he opened the letter that his daughter sent him.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Hermione appeared in the living room with her hands covered in flour.

"A boy!" he yelled. "They are gonna have a boy!"

"I know that, Ron," said Hermione calmly.

"You knew that? And you didn't tell me?" he asked, surprised, forgetting for a moment about the letter.

"No, Rachel wanted to tell you as a birthday present," she answered, smiling. "Isn't she nice?"

"Nice?" asked Ron. "Nice? Hermione, they are having a boy."

"I thought you would have been happy," answered Hermione. "What's wrong with them having a boy?" she asked.

"Hermione, you don't see the mess that will come out of this?"

Hermione pretended to think. "No, sorry."

"Okay, I'll try to explain it to you," he said, sitting down on an armchair and gesturing Hermione to sit down next to him. "Who is the father of the child of our daughter?"

"Emeric," she answered, sitting down.

"Good, and what's Emeric's surname?"

"Malfoy."

"Very good, and what will be the baby's surname?"

"Malfoy."

"Exactly, so, since the baby is a boy, he will pass his surname to his sons and to the sons of their sons and to the sons of the sons of their sons and so on until the Earth will be populated with Malfoys," said Ron with fear in his eyes.

Hermione smiled. "Ron, I think you are overreacting."

"I'm not, Hermione. I just think that if they were having a girl there wouldn't have been any problem."

"Because that girl would have taken another surname once she married," finished Hermione for him.

"Exactly," confirmed Ron.

"And the Malfoys would have been extinguished there."

"Yes," sighed Ron dreamily.

"Ron," said Hermione, taking his hand between hers, "you are talking nonsense. Now get ready because our guests are almost here for lunch," she added, standing up.

Ron grunted. "Why do I have to get ready for Ginny and Harry? I want to wear something comfortable, not something elegant," he protested.

Hermione sighed. "Look Ron, it should have been a surprise, but if you really insist into not change your clothes I'll have to ruin the surprise." She took a deep breath. "I also invited someone else for lunch."

Ron's face brightened up. "Really? Like you wanted to make a surprise party for my birthday?"

Hermione scratched her forehead, leaving a trail of flour on it. "Yeah," she said stiffly. "Something like that."

"And who did you invite?" he asked, reaching for Hermione, who was going back into the kitchen.

"Some _friends_, you'll see them," she murmured dismissively.

"Then I should really change my clothes. What do you think I should wear?" he asked excitedly.

"Whatever you want," she answered. "As long as you don't stay in your boxers anymore," she added, nodding towards his boxers.

Ron shrugged and disappeared up the stairs. "But what kind of _friends_ did you invite?" he yelled from upstairs.

Hermione seemed to look for words before answering. "_Rich_ ones." She heard Ron answering that they didn't any rich friends, but was distracted by a ring of the doorbell. She washed her hands and hurried to the door.

"Harry, Ginny, I'm so happy you have managed to come," she said, kissing them both on their cheeks.

"Are you kidding me, Hermione?" asked Harry, stepping inside the house. "I would have never lost the chance to see Ron and Mal-"

"Sttt! Harry! Ron doesn't know yet that the people I've invited are _them_," she said.

Harry seemed to have received the most wonderful present ever. "That's gotta be rich," he exclaimed.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry, we are here to support them, not to make fun of Ron, okay?"

Harry pretended to be indignant. "But yesterday you told me, 'Harry, we have to go to Ron's birthday party. I know, love, it'll be really boring, but guess what? Hermione had invited the Malfoys too. It will be so much fun, won't it?'," he said, mimicking Ginny's voice.

Both Hermione and Ginny couldn't help laughing. "I know for sure that Ginny would have never said something like that," said Hermione. "Anyway, they could be here any moment now. Harry, will you please go and tell Ron that he has to get a move on?"

"Where is he?"

"Upstairs, he wanted to stay in his boxers, but I managed to make him change his mind."

"Luckily," said Ginny, horrified at the thought of his brother in boxers.

"He's not so bad in boxers, you know, Ginny," said Hermione, smiling.

"I don't wanna know." Ginny followed Hermione in the kitchen.

"Well, he's even better without the boxers, and last night-"

"You know, Hermione, you deserve me not to tell you that you have flour all over your forehead, but since I'm a good sister-in-law, I'll tell you anyway," said Ginny, cutting off Hermione from the scary conversation.

"Thanks Ginny," said Hermione, brushing away the flour.

"By the way, you have not yet told me why you hate Ron so much," demanded Ginny, playing distractedly with some rare beans.

"What? I don't hate Ron," answered Hermione, surprised.

"Yeah, of course. And why did you invite the Malfoys on the day of his birthday?"

"Because we have to spend some time together. And what better than Ron's birthday for this? They will also bring him a present," she said, smiling.

"And why do you have to spend some time together with them?"

"For the kids, naturally!"

Ginny opened her mouth to ask something else, but at that very moment the doorbell rang again. They heard some quick steps on the stairs, and then Ron screaming, "I'll get it!" and then hushed laughs coming from Harry.

They all they heard a scream and the door shut closed again.

"Hmm, yep, he seemed so happy," teased Ginny, while Hermione hurried into the living room, jumping over Harry who was rolling on the floor with laughter.


	30. An Excess of Names

Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns Harry Potter and his world.

A/N: Please notice the similarity with this title and the one of chapter five in the sixth book (I felt like emulating J.K. even more with this one). So, well, I really hope that my readers won't leave me now that this story is an AU. I really hope that you'll keep on reading it. For me it would be very very important. So, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think about it.

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks again for beta-reading this chapter. Your help is always very precious to me.

**An Excess of Names**

"Ron! What are you doing?"

Ron looked at Hermione. "Hermione," he whispered. "The Malfoys are here; act like we are not at home and they'll go away."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Ron, it was me who invited them and plus you have already opened the door, they know that we are here."

"I don't mind, maybe they'll – wait!" Ron stared confused at his wife. "You did invite them here?"

Hermione sighed and took a step towards the door. She pushed away Ron and opened it.

Draco was standing right outside, with Pansy at his side. When Hermione saw them she did her best to smile. "Pansy. _Draco_," she said with evident difficulty with using Draco's first name. "Thank you very much for coming."

Draco nodded, while Pansy answered, "You are welcome."

"Please, come in," added Hermione, walking away from the entrance.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a moment?" Without waiting for her answer Ron started to talk to her, his voice gradually rising, "What the hell did you invite the Malfoys for?"

"Ron, usually when you say, 'Can I talk to you for a moment?' you wait until you are alone with the person you want to talk to," said Hermione patiently.

"I don't wanna wait," snapped Ron.

"Let's go in the kitchen," proposed Hermione.

"No, I want to talk here."

"Ron, we can't."

"Why?" he asked rudely.

Hermione turned her head slightly towards the Malfoys and raised her eyebrows.

"What?" snapped Ron, who was deliberately pretending not to understand.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, the people you want to talk about are right here. Let's go to the kitchen."

"No, I don't have any problem with them listening," retorted Ron, glaring at Draco.

"I don't have any problem either," answered Draco, challengingly.

"Okay, Hermione. First of all, what are they doing here?" asked Ron, trying not to yell.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Draco preceded her. "She invited us."

"And why did you invite them?" continued Ron, looking from Hermione to Draco.

"Because we have to discuss things," Draco answered.

"Am I talking with you?"

"You said that you didn't have any problem with us listening," said Draco calmly.

"Yeah, but I have lots of problems with you talking."

They were interrupted by Harry, who started to laugh again so hard that his stomach started to hurt. "I told you, Ginny, that it would be funny."

Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled. "Yeah, quite funny."

"Ginny!" exclaimed Ron.

"What? Harry spoke first!"

"Look at you, Weasleys," said Draco, disgusted. "You all act as if you are twelve."

"And Potters," said Harry.

"What?" asked Draco without understanding.

"Weasleys and Potters," he repeated. "Ginny and I are Potters, now."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Okay, how pedantic you are, Potter."

"Hey, what's right is right," snapped Harry.

"Oh, stop that!" Hermione looked from Draco to Harry to Ron with her usual bossy-look. "Ron, I invited them here because it's your birthday, and we need to talk about things like Rachel, Emeric and the baby. Mal- _Draco_, could you please stop teasing everybody? And Harry," she looked at him. "Yes, you are pedantic, and stop bursting into laughter."

Draco, Harry and Ron glanced at each others and murmured together an 'okay' to Hermione, who, visibly satisfied with herself, said, "Lunch is almost ready. Ron, show them the dining room, will you?"

Ron looked at Hermione, and she was sure that he was mentally counting till ten. "Sure, Hermione," he said through gritted teeth. "Malfoy, this way," he added rudely.

Draco and Pansy followed Ron and Harry towards a sliding door into another room where a big oval table took up almost all the space. Ron noticed that the table was already prepared with six plates, and asked himself since when Hermione had decided to invite the Malfoys for his birthday.

"Weasley," called the cold voice of Pansy. "This is for you."

Ron looked at her intently as she took out of her handbag a small package wrapped in green and silver paper. She handed it to him, but Ron didn't stretch out his arm to pick it up.

"Is it something dangerous?" he asked, looking from the present to Pansy.

"Yes, Weasley, because actually, my husband and I went to Knockturn Alley and brought a poisonous candle because we wanted to kill you, and now I'm telling you this because I'm very stupid and I'm ruining my own plan." Even Percy would have understood Pansy's sarcasm.

"I think she's joking, Ron," said Harry, smiling.

"Really?" He would have answered that he wasn't so sure, because she has just confessed to be 'very stupid', and that was true, but he preferred to keep that for himself. He stretched out an arm and took the present. "Thanks," he muttered and started to open it.

"Hey, mate, wait. You have to wait until Hermione and Ginny are both here, plus your sister and I still have to give you our present," Harry said.

"Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have," said Ron, putting down the Malfoys' present.

"Hey Weasley, why didn't you say that to us too?" asked Draco.

"Because you should have," answered Ron, malicious.

Luckily Hermione and Ginny's entrance into the dining room with two big plates of soufflé prevented any further development of the conversation.

"Ron, haven't you made our guests sit yet?" asked Hermione, putting down the soufflé on the table.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Malfoy, as long as you don't sit next to me, you can stay wherever you want," said Ron calmly.

"Don't worry Weasley, I wouldn't sit next to you even if you were the last Weasley on Earth," answered Draco as calmly as him.

"Good, so, Ron, you better sit at the head of the table and you, Draco, can sit opposite to him. Pansy, you can sit next to Draco and Ginny, you can sit opposite to her. Harry, you sit between Ron and Ginny and I'll sit here," she said, indicating the seat between Ron and Pansy.

Hermione served the soufflé to everybody before she actually sat and took some for herself. "Well, enjoy your meal," she said, since nobody had started eating.

A chorus of thank you-s followed and they started to pour the spoons into the soufflé.

"How is it?" asked Hermione quite anxiously after a couple of seconds.

Ron looked at her. "Hermione, we've not started yet."

"Oh, okay, sorry, you know it's just that I did it by myself and I'm not sure about it," she answered slowly.

Draco looked at the piece of soufflé that he was bringing to his mouth in a very unkind way.

"Oh my, do you cook your food?" asked Pansy, visibly surprised.

"Yes," answered Hermione, then she smiled. "When I've time, naturally. Sometimes I just call a restaurant, you know, occasionally even a Muggle one."

"You do not have house-elves?" Pansy's voice was a mix of horror and shock: ten percent horror and ninety percent shock.

"_House-elves_?" Hermione's voice was a mix of horror and shock, too: ninety percent horror and ten percent shock.

"Pansy, I don't think that someone like _them_ can afford such an expense as a house-elf," said Draco.

Ron glared at him, and Harry hurried to take his Butterbeer away from the table.

"We do not have house-elves because we firmly believe that these poor creatures should not do what they do," explained Hermione, anger transpiring from every word.

"Really? That's very-"

"Noble," Ginny offered to Pansy before she could have the time to say something less nice.

Pansy looked at Ginny with her eyebrows raised. "Noble is not exactly the word I was looking for."

"Never mind," said Ginny, bringing to her mouth a big piece of soufflé. "Hermione, it's wonderful."

Hermione looked at her, completely forgetting the conversation. "Really? Oh Ginny, thanks a lot!"

"You are welcome."

Everybody tried the soufflé.

"Yeah, well, not bad," said Draco, bringing another piece to his mouth, and then another one and another.

"For being prepared by a human, it's very good," said Pansy.

Ginny looked at her and shook her head, then she gently kicked Harry under the table.

"Uh? Oh, it's wonderful Hermione, the best lasagne I've ever eaten," he said.

"It's a soufflé, Harry," said Hermione.

"I know, I was joking," he answered, smiling.

"Ron?" called Ginny.

"What?"

"Do you like what Hermione has prepared?" asked Ginny, trying hard not to throw at her brother the knife that lay so temptingly near the fork.

"Yeah, not bad," he answered vaguely. "You know, Hermione, now that we are all sitting here I would love to know what you wanted us to talk about."

Ginny _involuntarily _brought her hand near the knife. Why couldn't he simply say, 'It's a lovely soufflé, just like my wife'? Because, of course, then everybody would have thought that that was not Ron, but his good twin.

Hermione swallowed the soufflé and cleaned her mouth on the napkin. "Well, I thought that it would have been nice to talk about the future of our children, since they are going to live together and they are still too young for a house or a-"

"About the house, _Hermione_," Draco cut her off. He stressed 'Hermione' as if he had some problems calling her by her first name. "We have already started building a small house near the mansion."

"How small?" asked Harry.

"Not more than thirty rooms," answered Pansy, waving a hand dismissively.

"Thirty rooms? And how do you think my daughter will take care of such a big house?" asked Hermione in disbelief.

"We were thinking about a couple of house-elves, but if you don't want her to-"

"Of course I don't."

"Then I don't know," finished Pansy.

"Anyway," said Ron, "why didn't you tell us about that? We are the parents of your future son's wife, Malfoy."

"In fact, Weasley." Apparently Draco and Ron had not yet passed to first names. "And when your daughter will be married, she won't be a Weasley anymore, but a _Malfoy_."

Everybody turned their heads towards Ron, waiting for him to explode in some way, but they were all very surprised when they saw him smiling calmly.

"Ron?" Harry frowned.

"You know, Malfoy, it's interesting that you talked about that," said Ron, taking a sip of Butterbeer.

"I talked about what, Weasley?" asked Draco, trying to sound casual.

"About names and surnames," he answered.

"Well, your daughter's surname will be Malfoy as soon as she'll marry my son," proclaimed Draco.

Ron's smile became even wider. "You see, Malfoy. That's not necessary."

"What do you mean? I want them to marry at some time," said Draco firmly.

"Me too, don't worry, but you know, it's not necessary that she'll take your surname," Ron said.

"What do you mean?" repeated Draco.

"What I just said. I spent quite a lot of time this week in the Level One at the Ministry of Magic and-"

"If I'm not wrong, the Auror Headquarters is at Level Two," Draco cut him off.

"You are not wrong, but I didn't have much to do, plus my colleagues always knew where to find me if they needed me. So, as I was saying, I spent quite a lot of time in Level One and I found a very interesting law about weddings," said Ron.

"Really?" asked Hermione. "Should I start to worry?"

"Nope, Hermione. It's a wonderful law: the bride can keep her surname even after the wedding," explained Ron. "And she can pass the name to her children as well."

"You are crazy if you think that I'll permit something like that," thundered Draco. "When she'll marry my son she'll change her surname."

"Why, Draco. I thought that you would have been happy not to have to share your surname with the daughter of a Weasley and a Muggleborn," said Ron, smiling.

Draco smiled back. "I'm not so keen, in fact. But then I thought about a couple of things, and came to the decision that it's fairly better if she'll change her surname."

"And these things are?" Ron's smile started to disappear.

"First of all, that when your daughter will have my surname she'll be a Malfoy and no longer a Weasley, and second I knew how much you would have despised that your daughter would become part of my family," said Draco, and this time he smirked.

"She's not yet part of your family and she'll never be; she'll be part of your son's family," pointed out Ron.

"My son is part of my family, so she'll be part of my family as well," snapped Draco.

"I don't think so," retorted Ron.

"Anybody wants some roast lamb and mashed potatoes?" asked Hermione, noticing that her husband has distractedly – or maybe not so distractedly – seized the knife.

"Yes, please, Hermione," said Harry quickly.

"Listen, Malfoy," continued Ron, ignoring the interruption. "My daughter won't take your surname even if it was the last surname left on this Earth."

"I think she will, Weasley, or else-" Draco seemed to think a bit about something terrible enough to say. "Or else the house that we will give them will only have seventeen rooms."

"Oh my," said Ron sarcastically. "Is that a threat?"

"What do you think?" snapped Draco challengingly.

"About you, Malfoy? I prefer not to express my opinion," answered Ron.

"Oh, afraid your wife will make you sleep on the couch tonight?" asked Draco.

"No, because all I wanted to _do_ as an answer was to throw this knife at you, but I've just noticed that some lamb has appeared in my plate, so I don't wanna waste the knife," answered Ron.

"Okay, I think that that's enough," Ginny interfered. "You know, I have a great idea. Why don't you let Emeric and Rachel decide by themselves?"

Draco and Ron looked at her and then burst into laughter at the same time.

Ginny sighed noisily. "Seriously, how old are they?" she asked to nobody in particular.

"Hey, what do you think about Weasley-Malfoy?" asked Harry.

Ron and Draco's laughter faded away as they contemplated that option.

"You meant Malfoy-Weasley, right, Potter?" asked Draco.

"Whatever," Harry answered, shrugging.

"No, he meant Weasley-Malfoy," retorted Ron.

"Okay, it was just an idea," muttered Harry, while Hermione glared at him.

"I think that the name Malfoy sounds better before Weasley; it clears up who is more important," said Draco.

"You think you are more important than me? You don't even work," snapped Ron.

"I don't need to do that. I'm not _poor_."

"Are you saying that I'm poor?"

"It's not me who said that," said Draco calmly.

"Malfoy, you are-"

"Ron! Why don't you open the presents?" asked Hermione, trying to avoid the third World War in her dining room.

Ron swallowed the curses that he was going to say. "Yeah," he muttered.

"This is from me and your children." Hermione passed him quite a big box, wrapped in shiny golden paper.

Ron looked at the present and smiled, then he started to unwrap it very slowly. Finally he uncovered a chessboard. He looked at it intently and then his smile became wider. "Hermione, this chess-set is impossible to find, where did you get it?"

"Somebody owned me a favour at the Ministry. Do you like it?" she answered, smiling too.

"I love it," he said, picking up a tower and observing it.

"I don't know what's so interesting in a chess-set," said Draco.

"You don't understand these things, Malfoy, but these old chess-sets made of fine oak wood are as rare as an Invisibility Cloak," explained Ron.

"Okay, never mind that," said Harry. "Open our present now."

Ginny passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, a small package wrapped in red paper.

"Oh Harry, Ginny, you shouldn't have!" he said, pulling out of the package a t-shirt of the Chudley Cannons.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," echoed Hermione. "Do you know how difficult it is to wash these Chudley Cannons gadgets? This particular orange has to be washed at 36 degrees for remaining brilliance and-"

"Yes, _Hermione_, that's very interesting, indeed, but now I think that your husband should open our present," Pansy cut her off, gaining admired looks from everybody.

Ron stretched out an arm to take the present that Pansy offered him. "Nice wrapping," he said, staring at the green and silver paper.

"I chose it personally," said Draco with a smirk.

"What an honour," Ron answered sarcastically. He opened it and stared at the most wonderful penknife he has ever seen. It was silver with golden inlays and some precious stones set in the handle. There were no Malfoy coats of arms or mottos, even if Ron looked instinctively for that.

"Do you like it, _Ron_?" asked Pansy.

He raised his eyes and looked at her with a dumb expression. "Yeah," he said hoarsely, "nice."

Ron looked at Draco, unable to say anything. He would have kicked that superior expression away from his face with his own _feet_ right at that moment if there weren't so many witnesses.

"Ron, what are you talking about? It's wonderful," said Hermione, taking it from his hands. "It must be so expensive."

"It is," confirmed Draco quickly.

"Ron, have you said thank you to Draco and Pansy?" Hermione was talking to him as if he were five years old.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You are welcome, Weasley," answered Draco. "You know, if I've received something like that from my future daughter's parents-in-law I would definitely let them give their surname to my daughter."

"Oh, so you just want to corrupt me."

"Is it working?"

"No."

"Well, never mind," answered Draco. "You know, I don't mind, after all."

Ron looked at him as if he was sure that there was something else going on.

"What?" asked Draco, taking a long sip of Butterbeer.

"You are strange, Malfoy, not that I didn't know that, but you are even stranger than I used to remember," said Ron.

"Why?"

"Because you just have got on my nerves with all this story of the surname and now you say that you don't mind," answered Ron.

"Yeah, well, I've just thought that after all the things that I'll do for Emeric and Rachel, the least they would be able to do is name their son after me," said Draco peacefully.

"What?" Ron dropped.

"Oh, don't worry, Weasley, you can always fill the third place."

"Why not a second one?" asked Harry, frowning.

Draco smiled. "Draco Lucius Ron."

"Yeah, of course," said Ron sarcastically. "As if they'll ever name him after you and your father. At least he'll be Ron Arthur Dorko – I meant Draco."

"You know, Weasley, you are way too lucky that I'm not used to killing people the day of their birthday," answered Draco darkly.

"Oh, now I'm really scared."

Draco stood up quickly and glared at Ron. "Hermione," he said in a very sensual way, something that made Ron want to jump on him. "Thanks a lot for the lovely lunch."

"Y-you are welcome, but there's still the cake," she answered.

Draco turned to look at her and smiled – he really smiled, not smirked. "I'm sorry, but my wife and I have to go, right, Pansy?"

Pansy didn't seem so keen to leave before the cake, but she nodded and stood up as well. "Yeah," she murmured.

"But-" Draco walked towards Hermione and kissed her hand. Hermione looked at him with her eyes wide, unable to finish her protest.

If a glance could have killed, Draco would have been dead. Ron looked from him to Pansy, but she seemed all right with what was happening. So he mentally counted until ten and took a deep breath.

"Bye, Malfoy," said Ron through gritted teeth.

"Weasley, Potters," answered Draco, while Pansy bid them goodbye too.

"Ron, shall we accompany them to the door?"

"No, Hermione, they know the way," answered Ron.

"No, Ron, come on, lead them to the door," added Ginny.

"Oh, fine, follow me," said Ron as he stood and rudely pushed away the chair. He guided them out of the dining room and into the living room. He opened the door for them and, with great effort, he seized Pansy and pulled her into a bone crushing hug, right in front of Draco.

When he let her go he smirked at Draco.

"Were you trying to suffocate my wife or make me jealous?" asked Draco simply.

"Don't know. Were you trying to flirt with my wife?"

Draco shrugged. "Come over for tea one of these days. In Monday my house-elf bakes chocolate cookies," said Draco seriously.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Ron.

"Should I?"

"Y-you are inviting me for a t-tea?" stammered Ron.

"Yeah, I enjoyed fighting with you, it has been such a long time that I didn't do something like that, plus, we still have to discuss other things," he added. "Bye Weasley, and happy birthday."

The Malfoys Disapparated, leaving a horror-stricken Ron staring at the spot where they had just disappeared.

"Hermione, you have to hear this," Ron said, hurrying back into the house.


	31. Telling a Story

Disclaimers: Not mine, not now nor never.

A/N: Don't ask, please. – Sorry for the delay.

To Danii: Thanks a lot for your help and for your support.

**Telling**** a Story**

Nobody would ever have dreamed to mess with Rachel and Emeric since the very first day they came back from the hospital. They were constantly under the eye of a teacher, who, to their annoyance, forced them to follow the list of rules that the Headmistress had given them.

Actually, it wasn't all rules. There was also some advice from Madam Pomfrey, and things they were able to do. For example, Rachel could eat whatever she wanted during her lessons; Emeric had protested because he wasn't allowed to eat during his lessons, but Professor McGonagall had tried to dismiss him with a 'this list has simply been duplicated, but you are not pregnant, boy'.

"But on my list, it says I'm allowed to eat during classes just like Rachel," complained Emeric, following the Headmistress out of the classroom.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "May I see your list?" she asked.

Emeric pulled out his list from his pocket and handed it to his professor, who took out a quill and drew a line across the indicated sentence, then handed it back to Emeric.

"Now it doesn't say that," she said firmly, walking away.

"Oh, poor thing, he can't eat during lessons," Allyson said in a mocking voice, as she joined him and Rachel right outside the Transfiguration classroom.

"Mind your own business," muttered Emeric, examining the list closely to make sure that Professor McGonagall had not deleted rule number 76. _You'll be able to follow the lessons from home, if the birth of the child will happen earlier than June._

"Oh, you aren't nice with your future cousin, are you?" teased Allyson.

"My future cousin? If I knew I had to become _your_ relative, I would never have asked Rachel to go out that time," he answered, smirking.

Allyson seemed suddenly interested. "Which time?" she asked slyly.

Emeric looked at her as if she was crazy. "The first time?" he asked sarcastically.

"Right!" Allyson slapped her forehead and looked reproachfully at her cousin. "Rachel, you swore to me you'd tell me everything about the first time you two-"

"The first time we– _what_?" asked Emeric, suddenly alarmed.

"You two started to fancy each other," finished Allyson.

Emeric sighed in relief.

"What did you think? I wouldn't listen to a description of you two having--"

"Okay, stop this unhealthy conversation right now, please. I don't want you to scare my child," Rachel exclaimed, cutting them off. "Allyson, are you sure I swore I'd tell you that?"

"Yes, don't you remember? It's normal, you know, you are all messed up with hormones and-"

"Oh, stop that!" grumbled Rachel. "Everybody tells me I'm all messed up, like I'm a living disaster."

"You are not," chorused Allyson and Emeric hastily. They knew only too well what came next: a long cry and the usual 'nobody loves me' fiasco.

"Come on, Rachel, let's go find someplace we can talk," said Allyson, smiling.

"Talking about what? You don't have homework to do?" asked Emeric rudely.

"None of your business," retorted Allyson, seizing her cousin's hand and guiding her towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey, I can't come into your common room," protested Emeric.

"Really? What a disappointment. Well, see you, Emeric," Allyson said nonchalantly.

"No, wait." Rachel made her cousin stop. "As you said, I don't remember too well these days. It's better if Emeric stays with us. He'll help me remember how this happened," she said, bringing her hands to her belly.

"Hey, I don't want a detailed account!"

"Neither do I, Rachel." Emeric echoed Allyson.

"I didn't mean that," said Rachel, snorting. "I just meant how did we come up with the fact that he's the father of my child, all right? Now calm down and follow me."

Emeric and Allyson exchanged a look and shrugged. They followed Rachel up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. She passed by the Fat Lady and reached the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy and stood in front of the blank wall opposite the tapestry.

She closed her eyes. 'I need a place to talk to them,' she thought three times, and when she opened her eyes again, a door had appeared in front of her.

"What the-" Rachel glared at him. "-door," finished Emeric, trying to smile.

Rachel opened the door and entered, followed by Emeric and Allyson. They found themselves in a small circular room, with a round coffee table in the middle and three armchairs covered with cushions around it. On the table were placed a kettle, three cups and some biscuits.

"Wow," muttered Allyson, looking around. "I didn't know there was a tea room at Hogwarts."

"There's not, in fact," answered Rachel, sinking into an armchair, and pouring some tea into a cup. "This is the Room of Requirement."

"Room of Requirement?" asked Emeric, sitting on the armchair next to Rachel.

She nodded. "It's a room that appears to the person in need and fills it with the things that person needs."

"So you wanted a place to talk, and this is what it came up with? A tea room?" asked Allyson, plopping on the last armchair.

"It's not a tea room. It's a nice room where we can talk without being disturbed," answered Rachel calmly.

"How do you know about this room?" asked Emeric.

"My mum told me," Rachel replied, sipping some tea.

"And how does your mum know about it?"

Rachel snorted. "Your parents know about this room as well, and yours too," she added to Allyson. "If they didn't tell you, there must be a good reason, and maybe I shouldn't have told you…"

"No, you did a great thing bringing me here," said Allyson, her eyes shining. "I'll come here during the next thunderstorm, when the twins want me to do Quidditch practice."

"No," said Rachel firmly. "This room is a _secret_. You can't use it for those stupid things."

"And you? You use it just for talking to us."

"You asked me to tell you our story, and I didn't want to be overheard," snapped Rachel. "But if you don't want to hear the story anymore, we can always leave."

Allyson smiled. "No, okay, I'm sorry. I won't come here and blah, blah, blah – now will you please start talking?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "All right," she conceded after a moment. She glanced at Emeric and smiled. "Now, I don't want interruptions, although it will take me ages to tell the whole story. Okay?"

"You don't have to be too detailed," muttered Emeric.

"I won't," Rachel said. She dipped a cookie into the tea and cleared her throat. "Now, naturally, the first time Emeric and I met was at King's Cross the very first day of our first year," she began. "I can remember my mum and dad looking at Emeric's parents with hate, and they were looking back at us with equal despise, and I even thought for a second my dad would attack Mr Malfoy, and vice versa. But luckily, it didn't happen."

She finished the cookie and continued, "But I still remember my father's expression, and words: 'Rachel, you have to keep a close eye on the Slytherins, do you understand me? All the dark wizards were Slytherins,' he told me."

"Nice father you have," said Emeric sarcastically.

"He was right," muttered Allyson.

"I said no interruptions," said Rachel, scowling. "Anyway, I remember I looked at the little blond child who was listening to his parents with a bored expression, just like I was, and for a moment, I met his eyes. I thought that small children like me couldn't possibly be as bas as my father said they were."

"Really?" asked Emeric in disbelief. "I didn't know you fancied me since the first time you saw me."

Rachel chocked on her tea. "_Fancy_ you? I just thought that you couldn't have been as evil as my father portrayed you!"

"Well, that was nice, because I thought that _you_-" He looked for a moment at her inquisitive expression. "Never mind," he added hastily.

"No, Emeric, come on, it must be funny," said Allyson, maliciously.

"Shut up," Emeric muttered at her.

"You thought that I-?" Rachel looked at him with eyes wide.

"Oh, well, I thought you weren't so great, since my father kept telling me that your family was really poor and – well, you met him, you know what I mean," he finished quickly.

Rachel nodded.

"That proves my father is far from perfect, because he was wrong about you," added Emeric sweetly.

"Oh, Emeric." Rachel tried to bend towards him to kiss him, but her belly didn't let her, so Emeric got up and bent down to her.

"Oh please, get a room," groaned Allyson.

"We already took one and I'm sorry to tell you that you are inside it," said Emeric, reluctantly letting go of Rachel.

Allyson looked at them, horrified. "I hope you are kidding, or my eyes will start to burn."

Emeric smirked. "That wouldn't be so bad." He got closer to Rachel once again, but Rachel pushed him back to his armchair.

"I have to go on with the story," she said, smiling.

"What for? We all know the story," answered Emeric, while he naughtily placed a hand on Rachel's thigh.

Allyson cleared her throat noisily. "I don't."

"But you already know how it ends."

"Rachel!" Allyson tried to direct her cousin's attention to Emeric's behaviour.

"Emeric," said Rachel patiently.

"Allyson!" Emeric looked at her and rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up, you two. I'm going to go on with the story," said Rachel. "For three years, we didn't speak, we didn't even look at each other, we were only vaguely aware of the other's presence in the school. Until that Care of Magical Creatures' lesson in our third year."

"Hem, Rachel, I think you can skip that incident," said Emeric, gulping.

"No, no, no. I want to hear everything," said Allyson. If it was something that embarrassed Emeric, she didn't want to miss it.

"Well, it's really stupid," said Rachel, smiling. "We were having a normal lesson. Gryffindors were paired up with Slytherins, as usual. Hagrid was introducing us to the Hippogriffs, and he was looking for some volunteers for going to pet the one that he was showing us, when I caught some of the Slytherins' conversation. Emeric was the one speaking. He was saying some very nasty things about Hagrid, and you know how much Hagrid means to us, don't you?"

Allyson nodded. "And what did you do?"

"Well, let's say that I was furious. However, the only thing that happened to be near me was some dragon dung. Luckily, I was very good in Charms, and I made the dung fall with incredible precision directly onto Emeric's head," said Rachel seriously.

"You did what?" Allyson looked from a flushing Emeric to Rachel in disbelief. "And Hagrid didn't give you a detention?"

"He didn't know it was me! Well… maybe he did, but he didn't give me a detention," said Rachel, smiling.

"And what about him?" asked Allyson, nodding towards Emeric.

"I have a name, you know?"

"Well, he knew I was the reason he'd have an interesting smell for a couple of weeks. He saw me using my wand, that's why. While everyone else was laughing madly, he shook the dung from his hair and walked towards me so threateningly, that for a moment I thought he'd make me eat the dung," said Rachel, looking at Emeric.

Emeric smiled. "I wouldn't. I was already _bewitched_ by you."

"Really? Then why the only thing that you whispered into my ear was 'you'll pay for this'?"

"I didn't add _Weaslesette_."

"Yes, very gentlemanly of you," said Rachel with a grin. "Anyway, apparently he forgot about that-"

"I didn't," murmured Emeric.

"-because for more than a year, he didn't do anything. He didn't come near me, and he sent me absolutely no signals. He was, as he's always been, a model student," said Rachel slowly.

"How boring," muttered Allyson.

"Hey, wait, the best part has yet to come," said Emeric enthusiastically.

"Yes, well, Emeric's _evil_ vengeance arrived at the beginning of our fourth year. It took so long for him to find something to do that my first thought was that he was really stupid if he had to take all that time for a plan like the one that he invented. Actually, he told me he wanted to catch me by surprise," she said.

"And you were surprised, weren't you?"

"To find a letter that said that I would be Head Girl in my fourth year if I danced around the school with just Devil's Snare leaves around my body while singing the School Song? Yeah, pretty surprised," she answered, annoyed.

"Oh!" exclaimed Allyson, jumping on the armchair. "That's why you did that thing, and you never wanted to tell me. Wow, you have been pretty stupid, haven't you?"

"Yeah, thanks, Allyson," said Rachel sarcastically. "I have been pretty stupid, but Emeric has been too, because in less than a couple of hours, we were both in the Headmistress office, where Professor McGonagall gave us the longest and most boring lecture of our life."

"How did they found out it was Emeric that sent the letter?"

"Because of the parchment," said Rachel cryptically.

"The parchment?" asked Allyson.

"Yes, he used his own parchment for writing the letter and he forgot to cover up the small 'DM' engraved on the bottom right of it. I didn't recognise it, but Professor McGonagall knew it far too well because of all the letters that Emeric's father sent to the school complaining about everything," said Rachel.

"I can't believe you were so dumb," Allyson said frankly.

"Maybe I did it on purpose, don't you think?"

Allyson pretended to think. "Nope."

"Anyway, at the end of the lecture, Professor McGonagall didn't give _us_ a detention. Yes, I was as guilty as Emeric because of the dragon dung that he gently reminded her about and because I danced semi-naked around the school." Rachel sipped some tea. "As I was saying, she didn't give us a detention, but she did something even worse. We had to spend a whole month together, doing homework together, going to Hogsmeade together, spending the weekends together."

"So that's what you did for that first month during my third year," exclaimed Allyson. "You were never with me because of _this_ boy?"

"I have a name." Emeric glared at Allyson. "Plus, don't you have any friend that can stand – pardon, spend some quality time with – you?"

"I have lots of friends," she said, glaring back at her future cousin. "But I like to spend time with _my_ cousin. Anyway, Rachel, how did you _fall in love_ with this thing?" she asked, as if she would have thought it impossible that they would have fallen in love if it wasn't for Rachel's protruding stomach at that very moment.

"Well, the first three weeks of that semi-detention passed between a quarrel and a fight, but it was in the library that it all happened." She looked at Emeric, who seemed quite pink. "I needed a heavy book, which was placed on the tallest bookshelf in the whole library. So, I asked my partner-in-misfortune to help me get it, since he was – mind, _was_, now he's not – quite taller than me. Naturally, he answered with a smirk and a 'don't look at me', so I started teasing him by saying if that if he didn't reach it, I didn't mind, I'd ask some other boy, and teasing, Allyson – keep in mind – always works with boys."

Emeric snorted, but didn't reply to this sexist comment.

"Anyway, he told me that _he_ could get any book I needed and he followed me to the bookshelf. When he saw it, he instinctively knew that he couldn't reach it, but he was – I mean, he _is_ – too proud to admit that. So, he tried to climb up the bookshelf, and when he reached the book, he couldn't do anything else than throw down the book at me. Of course, I wasn't ready to catch it, so it hit my head and I lost consciousness," said Rachel with a sigh.

"How romantic," commented Allyson sarcastically.

"Well, when I woke up in the hospital wing with Emeric at my side, it _was_ quite romantic, even if the first thing I did was to shout at him that he was a stupid dork with the worst hair I'd ever seen."

"Hey, I don't remember all those things," protested Emeric.

"Yeah, you kissed me before I could finish insulting you," said Rachel, smiling.

"And that's all? He kissed you and you fell in love with him and you two will live happily ever after?" asked Allyson in disbelief.

"No. When he let me go, I slapped him and then kissed him," said Rachel.

"And?"

"And from that moment on starts a long series of naughty meetings that if you want, your cousin can describe for you, although we can give you a practical demonstration," said Emeric, kissing Rachel.

Allyson jumped to her feet. "Don't you dare," she cried, looking horrified. "I could become blind."

Rachel pushed Emeric away while giving him a soft kiss. "Did you enjoy the story? Are you happy that now you finally know how we ended up together?"

Allyson smiled. "Yeah, well, it's not so bad. I liked it. I would like to have the same love story you do," she said to her cousin. "Sing in the shower like you do when you come back from your lessons with the Slytherins, or-"

"You sing in the shower?" asked Emeric, raising his eyebrows.

"Sometimes," answered Rachel, blushing. "By the way, weren't you about to kiss me?"

Emeric didn't make her say it twice, and he attacked her lips again, causing Allyson to pretend to be sick, shout at them to 'go and get a _different_ room' and walk out of the Room of Requirement as quickly as she could.

"Hmm, perfect," muttered Emeric towards Rachel's lips as the door closed behind Allyson.

"Do you like my kisses?" asked Rachel with half-closed eyes.

"Yes, I do. But that 'perfect' was for the fact that we've found a way to get rid of Allyson," he said with a smile.

Rachel knew that she should have slapped him, because it was her cousin he was talking about, but instead, she just smiled and sighed, "Yes" against his lips.


	32. Love Affairs and Matters to Settle

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Sorry if it's so late. I promise that next chapters will be up sooner. Anyway, I've decided to re-write all my stories, right now I'm half-way through the first story, 'Her Past, Her Present and Her Future', but I'm planning to do much more in the upcoming months. So, stay tuned, because the new versions will be much more improved than the old ones.

To Danii: Thanks for betaing this.

**Love Affairs and Matters to Settle**

"Easter holidays are coming early this year," said Rachel, glancing at the calendar hanging on the wall of the library.

"Yeah," answered Emeric, without looking up from his book of Arithmancy. "Unluckily, they are pretty early."

"Why unluckily?" asked Rachel, sitting across from Emeric at quite a distance from the table, since her belly didn't let her come closer.

"Because that means that after the holiday, we'll have more school days left than usual," grumbled Emeric.

"You know, I've never thought about it that way. I mean, every year we do the same number of school days. What's the difference if we have to do them before or after the holiday?" asked Rachel.

"Well, I think it's all a matter of psychology, don't you? I mean, I would be happier to go on holiday knowing that when I come back, I only have forty-five days left of school instead of sixty."

"Yeah, I guess," she said slowly. "You know, this year, the only days I'm counting down are the ones to the twenty-fifth of June," she added, smiling.

"Me too," said Emeric, smiling back at her. "Because I'll have back my little sexy Gryffindor with all her beauty and-"

"Do you mean I'm not sexy or beautiful right now, Emeric?" asked Rachel, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"O-of course you are, Rachel," stammered Emeric. Mentally, he kicked himself. "I need a book," he added quickly, standing up and disappearing behind a bookshelf.

Rachel grinned once he was gone, and she was lucky that the person that approached her already thought she was not completely right in the head, although another student would have thought that.

"Rachel," Malcolm whispered to her. "Hide me." He crawled under the table.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?" asked Rachel in a loud voice, so loud that she gained a scowl from Madam Pince.

"Shh! I came here because I needed to hide, don't ruin everything," he said seriously.

"I thought it was strange that you came here to study," sighed Rachel. "Why are you hiding, though?"

"The question is _who_ I'm hiding from," Malcolm corrected her.

"Who are you hiding from?" repeated Rachel. He was lucky she was trying to become more patient for her son. Normally, she would already have kicked him under the table.

"Su."

"Su? Su Davies?" asked Rachel, in disbelief. "Why? I thought you liked her and she didn't even consider you."

"In fact, it was exactly like this before – shh! She's coming, I can recognise her steps," he said, huddling up under the table.

Rachel turned and met the eyes of a beautiful half-Chinese girl dressed in Ravenclaw's colours, who was looking around in search of something, or _someone_. She smiled when she saw Rachel and hurried to her side.

"Rachel Weasley, right?" she asked brightly. "I'm Su Davies."

"Hi," answered Rachel, smiling at her.

"Have you seen your brother?"

"Which one? You know I have a couple of so called brothers," answered Rachel.

Su laughed shrilly. Madam Pince scowled at her, too.

"Malcolm," she answered cheerfully.

"Oh, the worst one – ouch!" Rachel cried as Malcolm pinched her leg.

"The baby kicked?" asked Su.

"Not yet," answered Rachel through gritted teeth. She kicked Malcolm softly under the table. "Now it's a kick."

Su looked at her questioningly, but all Rachel gave her as an answer was a smile. "You know, Su, I don't understand why you're looking for Malcolm. I thought you couldn't stand him. Or that's what Malcolm told me."

Su took a chair and sat next to Rachel. Malcolm, under the table, had to move towards the other side, far from Su's feet. "Well, it was like that, but I had an epiphany."

"Really? How did that happen, since in sixteen years, I still haven't had one," said Rachel, genuinely interested.

"Well, remember when you got the abortion potion from your cousin and your brother convinced you not to drink it?" asked Su.

Rachel smiled. She had to admit that Malcolm wasn't a complete disaster. "Yes, he was quite heroic that time."

"What? Oh yes, he has, but I didn't mean exactly that," said Su, starting to swing her legs and periodically kicking Malcolm in the leg. "You know, I've been really stupid. I believed that Zabini girl when she told me that what she gave me was a potion from Madam Pomfrey for you. When they told me what it really was, I felt so bad I fell ill and had to leave school for almost a month."

Rachel vaguely recalled that it was quite a while since she'd seen Su around the school, but with her own accident during the Apparition lesson and her stay in St. Mungo's, she didn't really care about the fact that her brother's crush wasn't at school. "Just because of that?"

Su looked at her, scandalized. "Just because of that? I could have killed your son and you say _just because of that_?"

"Well, I mean, it didn't happen, did it?"

Su shook her head. "No, but that doesn't change anything. I almost killed someone."

"It wasn't your fault, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time," Rachel said, reassuring her.

"No, I've been stupid," continued Su.

Rachel agreed with her, but she didn't say it. "No, you just did what you thought was right."

"I shouldn't have listened to a Slytherin. Slytherins are all evil and nasty," declared Su.

"Hey!" Emeric had just appeared from behind a bookshelf with a book in his arms. "Thanks a lot, little sweet Ravenclaw girl," he said sarcastically.

Rachel smiled. "She wasn't referring to you, but to Sybella."

"Oh, okay. I agree, then," he answered, sitting back at the table, forcing Malcolm to roll under the middle of the table with his legs curled against his chest. "Why were you talking about Sybella? Has she done something else?"

"No, just talking about how she made Su do whatever she wanted," Rachel assured him. "By the way, weren't we talking about Malcolm?"

"Malcolm?" asked Emeric, looking from Rachel to Su. "What did he do?"

"Nothing, it's just that Su, here, is kind of interested in Malcolm," said Rachel gently.

"I'm in love with him," Su said seriously, her gaze wandering out of the window.

Rachel choked while Emeric burst into laughter. "Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing, darling," said Emeric, laughing hard.

Rachel tried to kick him under the table but just hit her brother.

"Ouch!" came from beneath the table.

"Bless you," answered Su distractedly.

"Thanks," answered Rachel quickly, while Emeric raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Are you sure you are in love with Malcolm? You used to stay away from him like a cat from water."

"I know," said Su, sighing and resting her chin in her hand. "But after what he did for you and after how he spoke to me, I think I'm in love with him."

"What did he say to you?" asked Emeric, more amused than interested.

"Well, it's not important what he said," she answered, dreamily. "What's important is the way he screamed at me. No other guy has ever screamed at me like that."

"And you found that _romantic_?" asked Rachel, perplexed.

"Of course," she answered promptly. "Isn't it? It means that he has some spine."

"And why aren't you with him right now? I bet he would be happy to be with you," said Rachel.

"He was, actually, at the beginning, but then he started to become strange. He doesn't want to stay with me anymore. When he sees me in the corridors, he always runs to his lessons," sighed Su.

"Does he actually _run_?" asked Rachel in disbelief. "He usually runs in the other direction of his lessons."

"Yeah, I know. Every time I ask him if he's free in the afternoon, he has something to do. Last Monday, he took five showers in one day," said Su.

"Five in one day? He usually takes five in one year," said Rachel.

Su nodded. "I know, and that's extremely strange. But I'm really in love with him. You know, a couple of weeks ago, we also-"

"Oh, here it is!" exclaimed Malcolm, crawling from beneath the table and pretending to hold something in his hand. Madam Pince hurried towards them and asked them if they wanted to be banned from the library forever.

Rachel hastily said that she was sorry and that it would never happen again. The librarian eyed them suspiciously before going back to her desk.

"Oh, Malcolm!" exclaimed Su, throwing her arms around his neck. "I looked for you everywhere."

"What were you doing under the table?" asked Emeric, looking at him quizzically.

"I was looking for a thing I lost," he answered vaguely, trying to free himself from the break-bones hug of Su.

"Something like…?"

"This." Malcolm quickly moved his hand in front of Emeric and put it in his pocket. "Luckily, I found it."

"Oh Malcolm, I was just telling your sister about that night when you and I had-"

Malcolm placed a hand on Su's mouth rather rudely. "I think we better go," he said, grinning awkwardly.

"No, Malcolm, let your girlfriend speak," said Emeric, gaining a glare from Rachel and one from Malcolm.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," said Rachel. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Did you tell me you had a boyfriend?" he asked rather sharply, nodding towards Emeric.

"Okay, you have a point," said Rachel, rolling her eyes. "What were you saying, Su?"

"She wasn't saying anything, she speaks because she has a mouth and – ouch!" Malcolm let go of Su, who had just bit his hand.

"I was saying that last night was wonderful. We stayed up until dawn, watching the stars from the Astronomy Tower," she said, slipping an arm around Malcolm's waist and smiling.

"The stars?" asked Emeric. "And I thought you two had just-" Rachel reduced him to ashes with a glare. "-had a nice evening together, that's very nice."

"Yes, indeed," said Rachel. "Malcolm, why are you avoiding Su now?"

"I'm not, I just have things to do," he protested, trying once again to free himself from Su's arms.

"For example, five showers in one day?" asked Rachel, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm a clean boy."

"Yes, and I'm the Gingerbread Man," answered Rachel.

"Woman," suggested Emeric.

"The Gingerbread Woman. Thanks, love," said Rachel sarcastically.

"Sure."

"Well, anyway, I think that if you don't want to stay with Su anymore, you need to tell her," she said, looking from an uncertain Malcolm to a crestfallen Su.

"Su," he said to her. "I don't want to be with you anymore."

Rachel looked petrified. She hadn't expected her brother to be so direct, nor to be so quick in making up his mind. Su let go of him as her eyes filled with tears.

"What? Malcolm, why?" asked Rachel, while Emeric's stomach started to hurt from the repressed laughter.

"Because she's so clingy that I can't take her anymore," he said hastily.

Rachel smiled. "You know, when he was at school, dad had the same problem," she said.

"Really?" asked Malcolm, while Su eyed Rachel maliciously.

Rachel nodded. "Yep, with a girl named Lavender Brown."

"Why is this name not new to me?" asked Malcolm.

"Because she's the mother of your friend Connor," answered his sister.

"Connor Finnigan?"

"Yes."

"And how did dad get rid of her?"

"I don't think you need to know that," said Rachel, nodding towards Su, who was now sobbing quietly on a chair near Rachel.

Malcolm looked at her, sighed, then patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Come on, Su, there are other boys in this school," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

"I know, but I want you," she said, beginning to sob in earnest now.

Malcolm couldn't help grinning, and he winked at Emeric, who had just blinked at him.

"Maybe you can try another time," said Rachel, ignoring her brother, who was shaking his head furiously. "If you promise, Su, that you won't be too suffocating."

Su wiped away the tears so quickly that Emeric thought she wasn't really crying. "Okay!" she said cheerfully.

Malcolm glared at Rachel. "Thanks, Rachel."

"You are welcome," she answered, deliberately ignoring the sarcasm in her brother's voice.

Malcolm walked out of the library, occasionally turning and glaring at his sister, while Su trailed him.

"You really have a talent for love affairs," said Emeric, sarcastically.

"Didn't you see Su? She was destroyed. If she started to cry in here, Madam Pince would have banned us from the library for the noise," she explained.

Emeric looked at her, surprised. "You are starting to become astute, just like a Slytherin," he said, grinning.

"That's not exactly a compliment," she pointed out.

"Well, it depends on the point of view," he replied.

"Right, thank you. You are just as nice as a Gryffindor," she answered, smiling maliciously.

Emeric narrowed his eyes, then he smiled unexpectedly. "As long as I'm not as dumb as a Hufflepuff," he replied, causing Rachel to smile despite his house-ist comment. Her parents had never permitted her to say or hear something like that against Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. Maybe she was really getting into a Slytherin mindset? She shivered at the thought.

---

"Hermione, can you repeat what the hell I have to write?" asked Ron, impatiently. "I'm feeling like a _bloody__dumb Hufflepuff_."

"Ron, don't say nasty things about Hufflepuffs. I've already told you what to write about twenty times," she replied, slowly. "You just have to write, 'Thanks for the invitation, we'll surely come' to the Malfoys, and 'Thank you for the present and I'm sorry for the way I treated you at Christmas' to Fleur."

"First of all, I'm not sure I'll go to the Malfoy Mansion during the Easter holidays," protested Ron, playing with the quill.

"Of course we'll go, they've invited us. They came here for your birthday," she said.

"Just because they wanted to humiliate me with their expensive present," replied Ron.

"Don't be silly, Ron. We are going there. Rachel will come too, they want to show us the house they're building for Rachel and Emeric," she explained patiently.

"Okay," answered Ron, as if it was not okay. "But we are going there on Monday."

"Why?"

"Because, Malfoy said that they have chocolate cookies on Monday," answered Ron, seriously. "And do I really have to write to Fleur that I'm sorry? She sent me a pink underwear set, and I'm sure she did that on purpose and not by mistake like she said in the letter." He took out the birthday card that Bill and his wife had sent him for his birthday and read out loud, "'I'm sorry Ron, but it seems like those red socks of Bill lost colour'." He mimicked Fleur accent.

Hermione smiled gently. "Stop talking rubbish and write something nice to her."

Ron smiled back, and then started to write the letter.

"Something that doesn't include the words 'tart' and 'bloody'."

Ron snorted and, rolling up the parchment into a ball, he threw it away.


	33. The Nest

Disclaimers: Yeah, would love to own HP, but I don't…

A/N: Not so long, right? Anyway, I like this chapter, even if I didn't know how to title it. I hope you'll like it too. Hmm, let me know, will you?

To Danii: Thanks so much for all your help, sweetie.

**The Nest**

Back in December, Emeric had been depressed at the thought that he would have to spend the Christmas holidays away from Rachel, but now he would have given everything to spend just a few days at the Malfoy Mansion all alone, without Rachel and without his mother.

His parents had invited him and his girlfriend for the Easter holidays, and Rachel was very happy to be there, even if four months earlier she would never have placed a toe beyond the gate to the Mansion. The only problem was that she and Pansy never left Emeric alone.

"Look, Emeric," said Rachel, waving a photograph under his nose. "Weren't you adorable?"

Emeric seized the picture and felt the blood drain from his head, and then slowly returned. "Where did you get this?" he asked hoarsely.

"Your mother gave it to me," she answered brightly. "Oh, you are so _cute_ with your teddy bear and your dummy in your mouth."

"Mother gave you this? I am going to kill her," said Emeric, unable to take his eyes off the small moving picture of his naked younger self with a teddy bear in his arms.

"Where is that bear? I'd love to give it to our son," said Rachel.

"I hanged it and then cut off its head."

Rachel looked at him, horrified.

"No, alright, it's in the attic, with my other old toys," he sighed after a moment.

"You are not funny," muttered Rachel.

"And you shouldn't see these pictures of me," he retorted.

"_These_? Is there more than one?" she asked, grinning.

"No," answered Emeric quickly, "but if there were, you are not going to see them."

"Why?"

"They are embarrassing," he answered.

"We are going to have a child. There should be nothing embarrassing between us."

"Then I'll watch next time you shave your legs," answered Emeric, though he was shivering at the very thought.

"Just try to get near the bathroom," she said threateningly, moving her hand in the shape of a gun. "And I'll kill you," she finished.

"Why?" he asked, amused. "There should be nothing embarrassing between us, we are going to have a child," he said, mimicking her.

"Alright, a point for you," she answered, rolling her eyes. "But this picture of you is really cute. I want to keep it in my diary."

"You have a diary?"

"No, but I'll start now, and I'll fill it with pictures of you, me and our son, when he's born," she said, dreamily.

"That's really nice."

"It is," she confirmed. "Now, how do I get into the attic?"

* * *

Ron looked at the high gate that divided the town of Wiltshire from the Malfoy Manor and sighed. He had to admit to himself that, in the sunlight, the Malfoy grounds weren't so bad. On the contrary, the place looked almost like a big, cheerful villa.

"I don't like this, Hermione," muttered Ron. "It's too cheerful to be Malfoy's house."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Stop talking rubbish, Ron, and help me figure out how to open this gate." There were no locks, nor handles.

"Try 'Open, Sesame'," suggested Ron sarcastically.

"Ron, you are not funny," answered Hermione, smiling.

"You're smiling."

"Because you are silly," protested Hermione, her smile growing wider.

"Because I'm funny," said Ron, coming closer and hugging her tightly. "And you can't resist me."

Hermione let him trail soft kisses over her forehead and nose, eventually letting out a groan.

"It's wonderful to see that you two still like each other, despite the fact that you are so unattractive," said the muffled voice of Draco Malfoy. Ron and Hermione immediately let go of each other and looked around. "I'm in the house, but thanks to that gargoyle head over the castle – look a little bit higher, Weasley – I can see who's waiting to enter. But maybe you two don't want to enter - did I disturb something?"

"Let us in, Malfoy, before I take that gargoyle head and use it as a Quaffle and your windows as hoops," threatened Ron.

They just heard a laugh as answer from the gargoyle, but the gate opened and they were let in. They followed a long and winding path up to the Manor and when they reached the door, a small creature was waiting for them.

Hermione dug her nails into Ron's arm. "Look, they sent us a house-elf to greet us, I'm going to kill them."

"Hermione, breathe. Look. It seems like a happy little house-elf," Ron assured her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?" asked the house-elf with a tone worthy the Malfoys. He eyed Hermione just like Kreacher used to do. "Dinky will bring you to the Master."

Ron nodded while Hermione leant down to the small creature and whispered, "I've plenty of socks in my handbag. Do you want one?"

Dinky looked at her with his huge eyes, and showed his teeth to Hermione. "Dinky won't take anything from a Muggle-born, especially not clothes."

"Mrs. Weasley, are you trying to corrupt my house-elf?" asked Draco as soon as they entered the living room.

"House-elves need liberty, not to stay in a house and serve people," snapped Hermione.

"Hermione. Remember that we have to get out of this house in one piece, alright?" asked Ron.

Draco smiled. "Dinky, go call my son, and Rachel and Pansy, will you?"

The house-elf looked at Draco as if he wasn't used to such kindness, then, with a bow, Disapparated from the living room.

"Sweet little creatures, aren't they?" asked Draco, sitting down on an armchair.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and sat down on a couch next to Ron, as Draco gestured them to do so. An awkward silence filled the room.

"So," said Draco after a few moments. "How did you get here?"

"With one of the Ministry cars," answered Ron.

"Oh," said Draco, nodding.

Finally, some steps on the stairs broke the almost nonexistent dialogue.

"Mum, dad!" Rachel walked quickly towards them. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Really? Why? Are they treating you bad?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"What? Oh, no, no. They're wonderful, Pansy let me borrow all the old toys that belonged to Emeric and Draco, and we cleaned them with some spells," said Rachel, smiling.

"_Pansy_? _Draco_?" Ron seemed upset. "Since when are you on a first name basis with the Malfoys?"

Hermione too seemed upset. "You had toys?" she asked Draco.

Luckily, Pansy and Emeric's entrance into the living room prevented any degeneration of the conversation, because their greetings interrupted.

"Emeric, my dear old boy," exclaimed Ron, sitting up and hugging him. "How are you doing?"

Emeric, who for a moment had thought Ron would have tried to strangle him again, froze under the hug. "F-fine, thanks, Mr. Weasley."

"Please, call me _dad_," said Ron, grinning and looking at Draco over Emeric's shoulder.

Emeric glanced at him, not sure if this was a test or not. Maybe it was something like 'Come on, let's see if you have the courage to call me dad, and then I'll finish what I started the first time I saw you'.

"O-okay," stammered Emeric.

"Okay, what?" asked Ron expectantly.

"O-okay, d-dad?"

"Yes, Emeric," said Ron, dreamily.

"Dad, I think you're scaring him," said Rachel, patting Ron's arm and making him sit down next to Hermione.

"How are you doing, Rachel?" asked Hermione, placing a hand on her belly. "How is he doing?"

"We are both fine, and Pansy and Draco are so nice to me. Two days ago, I had a craving for mushrooms, and they made me an entire pot, even if it was two in the morning," she said enthusiastically.

"You ate mushrooms at two in the morning?" asked Ron, disgusted.

"Yes, they were fantastic. I ate them with some ice cream."

"Mushrooms and ice cream?" asked Ron. "I'm going to be sick."

"Oh, but you should try it, daddy," said Rachel.

"Yes, _Ronald_," said Draco. "Maybe you want to try them instead of the tea and cookies," he suggested.

"Maybe I can send them up your-"

"Dad! Don't say things like that! I don't want my son to have a bad vocabulary just like you," protested Rachel.

Ron narrowed his eyes and smirked. "No, thanks, Dorko, tea and cookies will be fine with me."

Draco ignored him. "Dinky, bring us tea and the chocolaty cookies."

The house-elf exited the living room, coming back just a few minutes later with a heavy tray on his head. He placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the room and, with another bow, disappeared.

Draco made the kettle levitate in the air and poured some tea into Hermione, Rachel and Pansy's cup. Then he gave some to Ron and Emeric and, finally, poured his own cup.

"This tea comes from the mountains of India, it's very rare," said Draco, sipping some tea from his cup.

"And very expensive, I believe," snapped Ron, drinking some of his tea.

"Not for me. I have some distant relatives in India, they send this for free," answered Draco nonchalantly. "Do you like it?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Not bad." Actually, it was the best tea he had ever drunk, but he would have never admitted it.

"Dad, Draco told me you had a little discussion about the name of my son at your birthday, last month," said Rachel, chewing her tenth cookie in less than two minutes.

"Yeah, well, we reached an agreement," said Ron uneasily. "We'll call him Ron Arthur Draco Weasley-Malfoy."

"You'll call him?" asked Rachel. "Why? You and Draco are going to have a child, too?"

Ron flushed. "No, but we thought that-"

"You didn't think that maybe Emeric and I wanted to name our son something different? Something that we like, since it's our son who you're talking about?" asked Rachel, her voice gradually rising. "If we want to call him Ernest or Alphard, can't we call him that?"

"You don't want to call him Alphard, right?" asked Ron slowly.

"Bad move, Mr. Weas- dad. Never interrupt Rachel when she's talking," murmured Emeric.

"Shut up, both of you." Her eyes flicked from her dad to Emeric. "Now, I've thought about this situation, and Emeric and I have come up with a solution."

"Really?" asked Emeric, who didn't remember having discussed anything about the situation with Rachel.

"Yes. Alright, maybe _I_ came up with a solution, but it's a very good one," said Rachel proudly.

"You're starting to sound just like a Malfoy," said Hermione.

"Yes!" exclaimed Pansy, clasping her hands. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"Great," murmured Hermione.

"Can I go on?" asked Rachel, sourly. "I've thought about the name of my son. Emeric, tell me if you don't agree with me, won't you?"

Emeric swallowed. 'And start another discussion with you?' he thought. 'I'll agree even if you'll ask me to follow you through hell.' "Sure," he said out loud.

"Well, first of all, you, as always, wanted to make one of these two families prevail over the other one, right?"

"Right," said Hermione. Everybody looked at her.

"Well, that's not possible, because the family that Emeric and I are going to form will be a perfect mix of these two families and we want to be perfectly equal. Do you agree, Emeric?"

"Yes, I do, Rachel." And he really did.

"And first of all, I want to tell you, it's not a name that makes someone, but since you seem so fond of this, I've had a wonderful idea," she said, eating another cookie. The hundredth cookie?

"Really?" asked Ron sceptically.

"Yes, dad. The surname of my son, and my surname, will be Malfoy," said Rachel. "Once Emeric and I are married."

"Yes! Malfoy one and Weasley zero," exclaimed Draco. "I knew that."

Rachel and Ron glared at him. "I've not yet finished."

"Sorry," said Draco, trying to stay serious.

"And I've decided that his second name will be Ronald," said Rachel, smiling at her father.

"Really?" asked Ron excitedly. "Malfoy one and Weasley one."

"Dad! Draco!" Rachel said firmly. "This is not a competition!"

"Sorry," they chorused.

"What about the first name?" asked Pansy.

Rachel smiled. "Emeric and I will choose something that we like and something that has nothing to do with our families."

"That means that you haven't decided?" asked Hermione.

"No, we'll think of something."

"I like Tom," said Emeric.

"Call my grandson after You-Know-Who and you won't live enough to see him go to Hogwarts," threatened Ron.

"You know, Tom is not a nice name after all," said Emeric.

"Very good, Rachel," said Draco, clapping his hands in an attempt at applause. "Very intelligent, I wonder why you're not in Ravenclaw."

"For finding the courage to answer to you and her father in that way, she deserves to stay in Gryffindor," said Pansy, with a smile.

"Touché, darling," answered Draco.

"_You_ are saying nice things about Gryffindors?" asked Ron in disbelief.

"No, I'm just remembering the Sorting Hat Song," answered Pansy practically.

Draco cleared his throat. "Now that everything is all right, I'd like you to see our – Pansy's and mine – present to Rachel and Emeric." He stood up from the armchair. "Follow me."

They all followed him into the library, where he offered them some Floo Powder.

"Where are we going?" asked Ron.

"To the Nest," said Draco.

"The Nest? What is that?"

"You'll see."

"Are you sure that I should travel with Floo Powder? I mean, after the Apparition lesson, I don't know if I should-"

"Don't worry, Rachel. This is totally different from Apparition and you already know how to do it. Aunt Ginny told me," she added, spotting her daughter's unsure expression.

"Okay," she answered slowly.

"Hurry up, then," said Draco. "The Nest," he said, disappearing between green flames.

Ron looked at Hermione and shrugged. "The Nest," he said out loud after entering the fireplace.

When Rachel and Emeric reached the fireplace in the so-called Nest, Draco and the others were already ready to start a tour of the house.

"Here you are. Do you like it?" asked Draco.

Rachel and Emeric looked around the huge room, still empty, that very likely would be transformed into the living room, and stared. "Do you mean this is all for us, father?" asked Emeric.

Draco nodded. "What do you think?"

"It's wonderful," answered Rachel.

"Where are we, Malfoy?" asked Ron, looking out of a window, but seeing only a vast garden and something that looked like a forest at the very end of it.

"We are near the sea," answered Draco.

"Which sea?"

"The Chinese Sea. Which sea do you think, Weasley? The Celtic one," answered Draco, trying not to shout at him that he was as stupid as always.

"But where are we exactly?"

"In Wales. If the day is sunny, you can see the English coast from the beach," answered Draco. "Who wants a tour of the house?"

"But it's empty," pointed out Ron.

"You don't have to come, if you don't want," snapped Hermione, who was starting to be fed up with all Ron and Draco's fights.

"No, all right."

Draco led them towards the living room, the dining room, the kitchen and a couple of bathrooms on the first floor. Then they climbed the stairs to the second floor, where they found the master bedroom with a bathroom, and another smaller one, for the baby, next to it. Then, as they walked down the corridor, which seemed infinite, Draco showed them eleven other bedrooms with a bathroom for each one.

"Thirty rooms," said Draco. "I hope they are enough to welcome all the Weasley relatives."

"They are," agreed Rachel. "I simply hope that I won't have to welcome them all together!"

"Oh my, but she'll need extra help to keep a house like this," said Hermione, who had never seen something like that.

"It's not even half of the Manor," said Pansy, waving a hand in front of her. "And I don't have to do so much."

"Because you have house-elves," snapped Hermione.

"Well, she can always work twenty hours each day to clean the whole house," said Pansy snidely.

Hermione glared at her.

"Oh, mum, I love this house," said Rachel, looking around. "And if I need a house-elf for cleaning, well, I can buy one and treat him like a human being, pay him and give him holidays."

Pansy looked at her, scandalized, as Hermione smiled. "We'll see," she conceded.

"By the way, how are they supposed to pay for all this?" asked Ron.

"Weasley! They won't have to pay anything, it's a present," snapped Draco.

"I understood that," said Ron. "I meant, how will they pay for the food they'll need, the house-elf, the things for the baby, and so on, if they are not working?"

"How did I do it?" asked Draco. "With Malfoy money. I know it sounds strange to you, but there are people that actually have money in this world."

"Yeah, but your father was already dead when you married Pansy and inherited the loot. Will you open an account at Gringott's for your son, or are you planning to die pretty soon? I can help you with the second option," said Ron, smirking.

"Naturally I didn't expect you to help me with the first one," replied Draco venomously.

"Okay, enough," said Emeric forcefully. "There's no need to fight over this, too. At least not for the next year, because Rachel and I will be at Hogwarts for the whole year, so we won't need anything, all right?"

Draco looked at him. "All right," he answered.

"Mr. Weasl- Ro- dad?"

"All right, Emeric," answered Ron.

"And I was wondering who will take care of your child while you are at Hogwarts next year?" asked Pansy expectantly.

"My parents would be happy to have him," answered Hermione.

"Muggles?" asked Pansy.

"_Dentists_," she snapped.

"Yeah, interesting. I thought that since Draco and I have little to do, we could take care of him," said Pansy.

"My parents wanted to watch him as well," said Ron.

"All right, now, don't start a fight over this as well," said Rachel wearily.

The four parents exchanged looks, and, for the first time, smiles.

"Promise," said Ron. "Now, let's go home."

"Emeric and I are already at home, dad," answered Rachel, smiling.

Ron looked at her, while the words left him, but for only a second. "I know, Rachel. I know."


	34. Biscuits and Sardines

Disclaimers: JKR owns everything here.

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Real life issues, as always. Anyway, I have a nice piece of news for you, my beta-reader managed to correct all the chapters, and so I'll be soon posting everything! I also have a question for my readers, what do you think I should name their baby? Send me some names, because I one I picked up ages ago is just too stupid… Now, enjoy the chapter!

To Danii: Thanks a lot for your help!

**Biscuits**** and Sardines**

Rachel looked at Emeric's hands, which were twisting nervously in his lap.

"Are you nervous?"

Emeric jumped at the sound of her voice, since, in that late afternoon of May, the only noises that reached their ears were the distant voices of the fourth year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, who were attending their lessons with Hagrid.

"Nervous? No, should I be?" he asked, unsure.

"No," she said calmly. "Hagrid just wants to see us. And give us something."

"Something that concerns a detention in the Forest?"

"No, something that concerns what he wants to give us," said Rachel, eyeing Emeric with raised eyebrows. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you talking about a detention and the Forest?"

"I was just wondering."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"You don't have to repeat everything I'm saying."

"I don't."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"That's not funny."

"No."

"Maybe a little bit."

"Yeah, a bit."

"Oh, stop it," said Rachel, laughing. "You are not in your right mind."

"Nope, not if I stay with someone like you," teased Emeric.

"Ha, ha," she said dryly. "That's just so funny. Look! Hagrid's lesson is over. Let's go."

Emeric jumped down from the little stone wall on which they were seated, and helped Rachel down. "Everything all right?" he asked, noticing her difficulty in standing.

"I'm fine, just longing to be back at the castle for dinner," she answered.

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving."

Emeric smiled. "Maybe we can go tomorrow," he said.

"No, it's okay. I can always ask Hagrid for something to eat." She started to walk down the path for Hagrid's hut, without listening to Emeric, who was trying in vain to make her change her mind.

When they passed next to the fourth years that were coming back to the castle, they saw the pupils glancing at them and then glancing away quickly.

"I feel watched," whispered Rachel into Emeric's ear.

"The Slytherins are looking at me," Emeric whispered back.

"Because you're with me."

"And because you're with him," concluded Emeric, touching her stomach.

"Well, it's worth all their glances, then," she murmured.

When they reached the hut, Hagrid was already waiting for them. "Hey, dinner is almost ready. Dn't wanna be late, do yeh?"

"No," said Rachel.

"Then what took yeh so long?"

"You were having a lesson," explained Rachel. "We didn't want to disturb you."

"Yeh could never disturb me," answered Hagrid, smiling. "Come on, I've somethin' ter show yeh." He looked at Emeric. "Yeh too."

"I'm dying of curiosity. And you, Emeric?" said Rachel with a grin.

"I just hope I'm not dying," muttered Emeric.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Yeh know, boy, yeh mutter a lot, fer someone who never says anythin'," said Hagrid, looking at him intently.

Emeric gulped. "I don't. I was saying that I can't wait to see what you have in store for us."

Hagrid smiled. "Big surprise. Come in, now. It's inside."

They followed him inside, where a huge Great Dane was noisily snoring on the armchair near the door.

"Hey, Third, how are you?" asked Rachel, stroking the dog's ears.

The dog searched her hand with his nose and growled softly in his sleep. "Good boy," said Rachel, smiling.

"Why Third?" asked Emeric in an attempt of conversation.

"Because his name is Fang the Third, Third fer short," answered Hagrid.

"You mean this is your third dog with the same name?"

"Yeah, do yeh have any problem, boy?" asked Hagrid.

"No, it's a great idea to remember the name of a dog."

Hagrid smiled. "I'm just kiddin', yeh know, yeh are a little bit too nervous."

"Who? Me? No, sir," answered Emeric hastily.

"You know, Hagrid, dad wants Emeric to call him 'dad'," said Rachel, sitting on the armchair near the dog and continuing with the ear-stroking.

"Really? I can't see Ron doin' somethin' like that," said Hagrid, bending on his bed and pulling out a big wrapped package from behind it.

"I think he said that because Draco let me call him Draco," answered Rachel thoughtfully.

"So, he's jealous, is he?"

"I think so," answered Rachel. "Oh, Hagrid, what is it?" she asked as Hagrid placed the present in front of her.

"Yeh should open it, don't yeh think?"

Rachel nodded and started to rip the paper apart, but then stopped. "Emeric, can you help me?"

Emeric looked from Rachel to Hagrid. "Go on," said Hagrid, "it's for both of yeh."

Emeric helped Rachel open the package and when the last piece of paper lay on the floor of the hut, they stared in awe.

"Wow, Hagrid. It's wonderful," said Rachel, breathlessly.

"Do yeh like it? I've spent all the evenings since January workin' on this," explained Hagrid. "What do yeh think, Emeric?"

Emeric looked from Rachel to Hagrid to the huge wooden construction that stood in front of him. "It's nice," he said. "But what is it? A cage for a lion?"

"Emeric! It's a cot," snapped Rachel. "Isn't it adorable?"

"What? A cot? Oh my, we could lose our son in there," said Emeric.

"It's not that big," answered Hagrid, waving a hand in front of him. "I wanted ter make it comfortable."

"Comfortable? Even Professor Slughorn could feel comfortable in there," snapped Emeric. "Look at the bars! I could pass without any effort between them." And he entered the cot.

"Oh, very funny, Emeric Malfoy. Now get out of there," snapped Rachel.

"Yeh know, Rachel, maybe he's right," said Hagrid, looking at Emeric. Then he took out his pink umbrella and pointed it at the cot which started to become smaller, until the upper bar reached Emeric's waist. "What d'yeh think?" asked Hagrid.

"Better," conceded Emeric, climbing over the bars. "Now it's a crib. And at least it'll enter inside the house Mother and Father have prepared for us."

"So I can send it ter the Burrow?"

"No, send it to the Nest," answered Rachel.

"The Nest?"

"It's our future house, the one that Emeric's parents built for us."

Hagrid burst into laughs. "The Malfoys are really buildin' a house fer yeh? Now I can say that I saw everthin'."

"I've spent the Easter holidays at their house, and they are really nice people. I don't know why everybody always says bad things about them," declared Rachel. "By the way, Hagrid, do you have anything to eat?"

"It's almost dinner, do yeh want ter ruin yer appetite?"

"Believe me, there's nothing that could ruin her appetite these days," said Emeric.

"Okay, then, I have some biscuits, and some sardines."

"I'll take both."

"Yeah, but what do yeh want first?"

"I want them together," answered Rachel simply.

"Biscuits and sardines? That's funny."

"I like to mix sweet and savoury."

"It's because of the pregnancy," explained Emeric.

"I see. And I thought it was because she was her father's daughter," said Hagrid, laughing.

While Rachel swallowed pieces of teeth-breaking biscuits and salty sardines, Emeric and Hagrid did their best to suppress their disgust. Biscuits and sardines.

"So, yeh were sayin' that the Malfoys and yer parents are doin' a kind of race fer yer," said Hagrid, looking out of the window instead of towards Rachel's early dinner.

"Yeah, I guess so. Since they stopped hating us for what we did, now they are doing their best to prove that they are better than the other parents with their children."

Hagrid smiled. "Nothin' has changed since school, then."

"Really?" asked Emeric. "I mean, we know they didn't get along very well when they were at school, but were they always in competition?"

"Competition? They hated each other, yeh know. This baby will bring a little unity between the two families," said Hagrid.

"That's exactly what I said," exclaimed Rachel.

"Well said, then, Rachel. I mean, what's wrong with the Weasleys fer the Malfoys?"

"Yep, and vice versa," pointed out Emeric.

"Well, we can talk about that, boy," answered Hagrid, causing a fit of giggles from Rachel and a dropped jaw from Emeric. "Anyway, I can't wait to receive yer next Christmas picture, when yeh'll be around the Christmas tree all together. That'll be funny."

"Indeed," murmured Emeric. "I can't wait to find myself in the third World War."

"Yeh said that they are all so nice with yeh, what's the problem? I bet yeh'll have fun."

"Yes, they are nice with _us_," said Rachel, licking the remainders of biscuits and sardines from her fingers. "But they keep on fighting, especially dad and Draco."

"Yeh are lucky yeh aren't the daughter of Harry Potter, or one of the two would have already killed the other," said Hagrid seriously.

"Really? What did they fight about?" asked Emeric.

"Everythin'. Yer father was a kinda annoyin' boy. He could never keep his mouth shut, always tryin' ter start a fight with other boys, especially Gryffindors," answered Hagrid. "Oh, Merlin's beard, it's late. They'll be servin' dinner. Better if we get a move on. Can yeh walk, Rachel?"

"Yes, why shouldn't I be able to?" she asked, sitting up.

"Because yeh ate all my biscuits an' it usually takes me a whole week ter finish them," said Hagrid, placing away the empty pot of biscuits.

"There weren't so many, and with the sardines, they were great."

"Okay, let's go now." Emeric cut off that biscuit and sardines praise.

They walked all the way up to the castle, and when they entered the Great Hall, almost nobody noticed them, since they were all too concentrated on their own dinner. Hagrid hurried towards the staff table.

"Don't tell me that you are still hungry," Emeric whispered into Rachel's ear as she walked to the Gryffindor table.

"Of course I am," answered Rachel with a smile.

Emeric shrugged and walked in the opposite direction, sitting down at the Slytherin table. He helped himself to a very small portion of potatoes.

"Aren't you hungry?" asked one of his fellow Slytherin.

"I just saw my pregnant girlfriend eating biscuits and sardines, I'm not exactly keen on putting something in my mouth," answered Emeric, biting into a potato.

The Slytherin shivered at the very thought of biscuits and sardines, and decided that next time he wouldn't stick his nose in others' business.

On the other side of the Great Hall, Rachel was already busy duelling with her brother for a piece of roast beef.

"Hey, if you're late, it's not my fault," snapped Malcolm, trying to pull the meat towards him.

"And if I'm pregnant, it's not my fault," retorted Rachel.

"No? I wonder whose fault it is, then," sneered Malcolm.

Rachel blushed. "You know what I mean," she replied. "I'm hungry."

"Didn't you have your usual snack this afternoon?" asked Daniel, her younger brother.

"No, I just ate some biscuits and sardines at Hagrid's," she groaned.

"Biscuits and sardines? Bad mental image," said Malcolm, letting go of the roast beef. "You are scaring me. I mean, where is all the food that you are eating going? It can't all be for the baby."

"It is," she snapped.

"Look at her belly," said Daniel. "It's as huge as Slughorn's."

"Hey!" protested Rachel. "It's not. And even if it was, we are two."

"Yeah, of course," said Malcolm sarcastically.

"I don't want to talk with two people like you – oh, what am I saying? I don't want to talk with two _things_ like you. Now stop and let me eat," said Rachel, eating the piece of roast beef that she had finally won from her brother.

"Oh, but we want to talk with you, it's so funny," teased Malcolm.

"Fine," she snapped. "How's Su doing, Malcolm?"

Malcolm looked at her darkly. "I don't know."

"Why? Did you get rid of her again?" She felt vindictive against the ones that laughed at her figure.

"No, or better, not yet, I can't do that," he said.

"Oh, so you finally notice that she's madly in love with you and you don't want to break her heart?"

"No, I really _can't_ get rid of her. Even if I tell her I don't want to see her anymore, she won't listen to me," complained Malcolm.

"Poor girl, she's in love," laughed Daniel, gaining glares from Malcolm.

"I don't _want_ her to be in love with me."

"Listen, you have to go back to the times when it was you who liked her. What did you like about her?" asked Rachel. "Oh, no, wait, why am I helping _you_? No, okay, I'm helping that poor girl."

"Yeah, well, I liked her because she didn't look at me," answered Malcolm.

"And that's all? You are in a bad position, brother," answered Daniel.

"No, okay, she has nice hair, a very pretty face, soft skin, wonderful eyes-"

"Something deeper? For example, her personality? I mean, she's in Ravenclaw, she must be intelligent," suggested Rachel.

"Not so much. Okay, she let me copy in History of Magic, but she made a couple of mistakes in the test," said Malcolm.

"Okay, I'll turn a blind eye to the fact that you cheated. But I think you should concentrate on something different. I mean, she's popular and pretty, but that's not everything. Why don't you try talking to her?"

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever you like," said Rachel.

"Quidditch," suggested Daniel. He turned towards his sister. "People like them always talk about Quidditch."

"Yeah, and people like you always talk like their mothers," snapped Malcolm and Daniel stuck out his tongue at his brother.

"Stop it. Yes, Daniel is right, Quidditch is a great idea," said Rachel.

"But she supports the Tornados," protested Malcolm.

"And that's so bad?" asked Rachel, who wasn't exactly the best person to talk of Quidditch to.

"Indeed."

"Then you know what? Ask Allyson for a piece of advice," snapped Rachel.

Malcolm seemed terrified. "Oh, no, not Allyson. She'll make me wear cologne."

Rachel sighed. "Mark my words, Su will be lucky if you really get rid of her," she said, standing up and walking away.

"Yeah, and I'm very lucky that you aren't my mum," screamed Malcolm after her.

The next thing he remembered, he was sitting on a bed in the Hospital Wing with a spoon in his nostril.


	35. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This is just one silly, almost-fill-in-chapter, but I hope you'll enjoy it, and there's also a little cliffy at the end… Write to me to let me know what you think! Even to flame! :P Oh, and thanks for all the reviews...

To Danii: Thanks so much for your help, sweetie!!

**Gryffindor**** vs. Slytherin**

Allyson entered the Great Hall with a grin worth the one her father had the first time he kissed her mother. She glared toward the Slytherin table and walked haughtily towards her own table. When she sat, she looked again to the other side of the Hall and _looked_ at Emeric, sending virtual daggers toward him.

Emeric, on the other side of the Great Hall, narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. The only thing missing was some very dramatic music.

"What are you doing?" asked Rachel of Allyson, looking from her to Emeric.

Allyson didn't look at her, nor did she give any sign that she had heard Rachel.

"Hey," said Rachel, waving a hand in front of Allyson's face.

"Oh, Rachel, no!" groaned Allyson. "You made me interrupt the eye contact."

"The eye contact? With Emeric?" asked Rachel, without understanding.

"Yes, and now look, he's rejoicing." Allyson nodded towards the Slytherin table. Emeric was actually sticking out his tongue.

Rachel raised an eyebrow quizzically. "May I know what you are doing?"

Allyson turned towards her cousin and opened her eyes wide. Rachel looked at Allyson and noticed for the first time that she was wearing Quidditch robes. She glanced at Emeric and saw that he was wearing the same, except for the colours.

"Oh," she said understandingly. "The Quidditch match."

"Rachel, it's not just a Quidditch match," said Allyson, signing air quotes around 'Quidditch match'.

"Why is it not 'only' a Quidditch match?" asked Rachel, signing the inverted comas around 'only'.

"Because it's the _final_. The match that will decide which House will win the Quidditch cup this year," exclaimed Allyson.

"Oh. Well, it's just a Quidditch cup," Rachel pointed out.

"It is not, _especially_ because we are going to play against Slytherin. And we cannot let them win."

"Would that be so bad?" asked Rachel, eating some scrambled eggs.

"Rachel, talking to you and talking to your mother is the same thing, you know that? You simply don't understand the importance of Quidditch in the life of a _normal_ teenager," said Allyson seriously.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just that I prefer reading a book to watching a group of people throw a ball and look for the Golden Snitch," replied Rachel.

"I hope your son won't turn out like you, or he will have a very boring life in front of him."

"I'm not boring," protested Rachel.

"No, of course not," her cousin answered sarcastically. "You know what you should do? You should come to the Quidditch game and support the team."

"I always do that!"

"I mean with big banners and screams," explained Allyson.

"And maybe with my face painted gold and red?"

"You would really do that?"

"No!"

"Well, at least you haven't started to support Slytherin," said Allyson. "Right?" she asked after a moment.

"Right."

"Right, what?" asked Malcolm, walking towards them and sitting across from Allyson.

"Right that Rachel will support Gryffindor today."

Malcolm's fork dropped. "Why? Did you have any doubts? Don't tell me you wanted to support _Slytherin_?" he said, shocked.

"No," protested Rachel. "I didn't say anything. Allyson is saying that by herself."

Malcolm opened his mouth to say something else about Slytherin, when Su Davies passed by and screamed, "Malcolm! I support Gryffindor!"

Malcolm wasn't sure of what happened next, but he heard some laughs, muffled by his arms around his head, and someone patted his back. After a while, he found the courage to raise his head again. Allyson and Rachel were both giggling madly.

"Ravenclaw always supports Gryffindor against Slytherin," he muttered. "Did she have to scream that to everybody?"

"You have to read between the lines," said Allyson. "She wanted to say, 'Malcolm, I support Gryffindor, so take a seat near me in the stands'."

Malcolm grimaced.

"Hey, what did you do to your nose?" Allyson asked, seeing that it was red around his left nostril.

"I had an accident, with a _spoon_," he answered darkly.

"Another time?" asked Allyson, looking from Malcolm to Rachel.

Rachel shrugged. "He deserved that."

"Okay, never mind. It's late and the twins are going to kill me if I'm not in the dressing room in less than five minutes," answered Allyson, standing up. "See you at the match?"

"Yes," they both answered.

Rachel followed Allyson with her gaze, until Allyson met Emeric near the doors to the Great Hall. They looked at each other with pure hatred in their eyes and exited the Hall.

"Those two would never – hey, where are you going?"

Malcolm looked her up and down. "I have something to do."

"It doesn't concern Su, does it?"

"No, Professor Lupin asked me to do something," he said vaguely.

"On the morning of the match? That was somewhat odd of him, and I thought he would have wanted to watch the match as well," commented Rachel.

"Yeah, well, it's something I have to do during the match. You'll see," he said, walking away.

Rachel shrugged and hurried to finish her breakfast and then walk down to the pitch. As she made her way through the students on the Quidditch pitch, she looked for Daniel and Wyatt.

"Rachel! Over here," Wyatt suddenly called. "Daniel and I took a seat for you."

Rachel walked towards them and smiled. "Thanks a lot."

"Sure," answered Daniel. "Malcolm suggested we take you two seats, he said one for you and one for your stomach."

"Really?" asked Rachel darkly. "Sometimes I don't think that boy will make it through this school year with all his limbs attached to his body.

"By the way, where is he?" asked Wyatt.

"He said that Professor Lupin was making him do something," answered Rachel.

"During the Quidditch match?" asked Daniel, impressed. "He must have done something pretty bad, because Professor Lupin usually never gives detentions during Quidditch."

"Well, he didn't say it was a _detention_," pointed out Rachel.

"What would it be, then?" asked Wyatt.

"Never mind, look, Madam Hooch is entering the pitch," said Rachel, pointing towards the woman standing in the middle of the field.

Everybody's attention turned towards Madam Hooch, and the crowd went quiet while the speaker started to commentate.

"Welcome to the last Quidditch match of this year," said a male voice.

"That voice," murmured Rachel.

"It sounds almost like-" continued Daniel.

"-Malcolm!" finished Wyatt.

"Oh my goodness! This is going to be a mess," muttered Rachel.

"Why? It'll be funny," exclaimed Wyatt.

Malcolm kept talking. "This match will be played by the great, wonderful, great – have I already said that?-"

"Cut it short, Weasley!" someone screamed from the Slytherin stands.

"-Gryffindors, and by the Slytherins. The team that triumphs will win not only the match, but also the Quidditch cup for this year, and – I don't want to scare the Slytherins, but if I do, so much the better – it's five years that that cup has been in Professor Lupin's office."

"Yeah, it's time to change its place," screamed someone else, from Slytherin.

"Weasley," Professor McGonagall's voice was now sounding over the roar of the crowd. "I want a fair commentary. Do you understand? Just say the names of the players, and keep all the other things to yourself."

"All right, Headmistress," answered Malcolm.

"I told you it would be a mess," whispered Rachel.

"Let's welcome the Gryffindor team," Malcolm said while the door of the Gryffindor dressing room opened and seven figures flew into the air. "There's Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Groban, Cooper and the Seeker, Potter."

Three stands out of four cheered the entrance of the Gryffindor team, while the Slytherins booed them.

"And now the Slytherins, I can't recollect all their names, but I can remember that the Seeker is _Malfoy_."

"What does he want to do?" asked Rachel to nobody in particular, letting out fear from every single word.

"I don't know, but I can't see anything good coming from this," answered Daniel, with a grin.

"Madam Hooch frees the Golden Snitch and the Bludgers, and now she throws the Quaffle. The match starts," announced Malcolm. "The first to seize the Quaffle is Weasley – Alexis Weasley – she moves through the other players, unstoppable, and she scores! Ten points to Gryffindor! Take that, Slytherins!"

"Weasley!" warned Professor McGonagall, but her voice wasn't as firm as before, since she was happy that Gryffindor was already leading the game.

"Now it's Slytherin's turn to have the Quaffle, they are trying to get closer to the poles, but luckily Cooper, the Keeper, is too quick for them and – oh, no! Slytherin scores. Damn."

"Weasley!"

After a good twenty minutes of scoring from both sides, the teams were at the same score of a hundred points each. Malcolm was getting terribly bored at keeping his attention on the Chasers, so he decided to tease the Seekers.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin are still even, now where are the Seekers? Why can't they simply bring this game to an end? Because they can't find the Snitch," he said slowly. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? Being a daddy has drained you of all your energies?"

"Weasley, keep your eyes on every player," shrieked Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, and Potter can't find the Snitch either, what's wrong with you, Potter? You spend too much time with your nose stuck in other people's business rather than doing Quidditch practice?" asked Malcolm, sneering.

Alexis came flying near Malcolm and screamed at her cousin, "Malcolm, what the hell are you doing? Leave Allyson alone!"

Malcolm stuck out his tongue. "Did you know that Allyson Potter is madly in love with Connor Finnigan?" he screamed into the megaphone.

Rachel paled, and looked at the laughing people around her. "Did Allyson help Malcolm with his problem?" she asked to Daniel.

"Do you mean the S-problem?"

"S-problem?"

"Su-problem, S for short."

"Su is already short," pointed out Rachel.

"Well, never mind that. Yes, Allyson helped him. She lectured him for almost an hour last evening about what he should and shouldn't do with girls and she also talked to Su," answered Daniel.

"Oh, great," groaned Rachel.

"Why?"

"Because he's getting revenge on her," replied Rachel.

"Now, back to the match," said Malcolm. "The Seekers seemed – hey, what is Potter doing with that Bludger? Shouldn't she look for the Snitch? Hey, Potter, pay attention, you are – Allyson!"

"Potter!" roared the Headmistress.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but the voice of this match was getting on my nerves," answered Allyson simply.

"Good job, Allyson," screamed Emeric.

She smiled for a moment before going back to the Snitch-quest and rising into the air.

"Oh, seems like the Seekers have teamed up against the commentator," sneered Malcolm. "That's what happens when the relatives are too close."

"Malcolm, stop it!" screamed Allyson from her broom. "Or I swear you won't be able to avoid the next Bludger!"

"Now I'm afraid," said Malcolm derisively. "Oh, but look. Seems like the Slytherin Seeker has found something, I bet it's the Snitch."

Allyson looked for Emeric all over the pitch and saw that he was zooming between the other players, following the Snitch. Allyson threw herself behind him. Their brooms were equally matched, so it was all a matter of talent, and Allyson had it in her blood.

She pulled alongside Emeric and pushed him. Emeric had to pull back the arm that had stretched out towards the Snitch and seize his broomstick to stay in the air.

"Afraid to fall?" asked Allyson, smirking.

"Are you?" Emeric asked back. Now it was his turn to push her.

She withdrew her arm as well, and her broomstick swung under her body.

"Hey, nobody taught you that you mustn't push a lady?" she asked, punctuating each word with a shove.

Emeric slid from his broom, but he managed to keep a hand on the stick, which didn't stop, but kept going. He just heard Allyson screaming, "Look out!" before he banged into the teachers' stand, and something exploded within his mouth.

Then everything went dark.


	36. Speechless

Disclaimers: JKR owns everything here.

A/N: I'm quite happy that some people are still following this story, even if I made you all waiting for ages for some chapters. These last chapters are quite light and something like fills-in, but I like them. I really hope that you'll enjoy them as well! Luv you all, readers..

To Danii: Thanks a lot for your help!

**Speechless**

When Emeric opened his eyes, his first thought was that he was dead. Then his eyes managed to focus on the first person at his right and thought that if he was really dead, he was in hell, because otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to explain the presence of Malcolm Weasley in heaven.

Then someone threw her arms around his neck and hot tears started to wet his forehead and his pillow. His eyesight was now obscured by a mass of bushy red hair.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound exited and that was very bad, since that all that hair was suffocating him. He patted Rachel's shoulder and she stood up.

"Oh Emeric," she said, while tears streamed down her cheeks. "You were going to suffocate."

He looked at her. She was very sensitive if she managed to understand something like that in only a few seconds. He opened his mouth again, but still no sound exited. So he just gave her the thumbs up.

He sat up and looked at her expectantly, only a question in his eyes, but unluckily, Rachel didn't seem to get it. He took Rachel's hand and placed it on his throat, then frowned.

"What?" she asked. "Oh, you're wondering why you can't speak, right?"

Emeric nodded. He was actually wondering who had won the Quidditch match, but once he would have been able to speak again, then he would have asked it by himself.

"Madam Pomfrey placed a Silencing Charm on you," she explained. "Oh, don't worry," she added hastily, "only for twenty-four hours."

He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows, hoping that his girlfriend would understand that it was a 'why' that he was asking.

"Do you want some water?" asked Rachel, frowning.

"I think he wants to eat something," suggested Malcolm.

"I said you mustn't speak," snapped Rachel firmly. "This is all your fault."

Malcolm sighed and nodded. Emeric had never seen Rachel so severe towards her brother, and he had never seen Malcolm so subdued towards his sister.

Emeric shook his head and touched his throat, then shrugged his shoulders again.

"Is your throat hurting you?" asked Rachel patiently.

He shook his head again, then something turned on in his brain and he mimicked the movement of writing with his hands.

"Oh, you want to write," exclaimed Rachel, hitting her forehead. She took out a parchment and a quill from her pocket and gave them to Emeric, who looked at her strangely.

He started to write something, but before he finished, he drew a line through it and wrote something else, something he wanted to know with more curiosity.

He passed the piece of parchment to Rachel.

_Why do you always go around with a quill and a parchment in your pockets?_

Rachel stared at the question. "I don't know," she said after a while. "But it's useful, isn't it? I mean, you're using it right now, aren't you?"

Emeric nodded. Then he took the parchment back.

_Who __won?_

"Who won?" Rachel read out. "That's all? You almost died and all you have to ask me is _who won_?"

Emeric took the parchment from her hands again and started to write something fervently.

"Don't you dare write that I don't understand Quidditch, because every person to whom I spoke today told me that," snapped Rachel.

Emeric drew a line through what he was writing.

_So? _

Rachel sighed. "So, Slytherin won."

Emeric grinned and started to laugh with noiseless laughter. Then he opened his mouth to rejoice, but no sound came out. He took back the parchment another time.

_Why __did Madam Pomfrey took away my voice?_

He showed it to his girlfriend.

"Because your throat has been badly damaged, and she didn't want you to be unable to speak for the rest of your life," explained Rachel. "So she just cast that little charm; it will help you heal more quickly and more comfortably."

_How did I hurt my throat? No__, wait, what happened?_

"Oh, finally you want to know something that concerns you, something of import," she said. "You banged into the stand of the teachers – no, you didn't hurt anybody – and you gained the victory for your team when you swallowed the Snitch."

_I did what?_

"You swallowed the Snitch," repeated Rachel. "Its little wings were the things that hurt your throat."

_Oh…_

"If you have nothing useful to write, you can always choose not to write and waste my ink," said Rachel.

_Alright__._

"And you can nod instead of writing 'alright', all right?"

He nodded.

_Are you nervous?_

"Should I? My boyfriend and father of my future child almost gets himself killed crashing into a stand because my cousin was pushing him off his broomstick, and my brother was teasing him in front of the whole school. I'm not nervous, I'm just wondering why I couldn't have been born on a remote island in the Atlantic Ocean," said Rachel, giving vent to her feelings.

_Which island?_

"It was just an expression, Emeric!" snapped Rachel.

Emeric nodded hastily. Then he looked at Malcolm, who didn't dare to look back at him, and wrote something down.

_Why did you say that it was all Malcolm's fault? _

He re-read the question, then decided to write something else.

_If I remember, it was __Allyson who pushed me off my broomstick._

Rachel read it and looked from Emeric to Malcolm and back to Emeric. "Well, if _he_ hadn't distracted Allyson, she wouldn't have had to push you off your broom to stop you catching the Snitch," she explained. "And he was very mean when he was doing the commentary."

"I was just trying to make Allyson pay for what she did," said Malcolm feebly.

"I don't care," said Rachel firmly. "You have been terrible."

"If you would have heard what she told me and what she said to Su, you wouldn't have said that," protested Malcolm.

"Did she yell to all the school that you were in love with Su?" asked Rachel.

"No, but-"

"Did she distract her own Quidditch team, just for fun?"

"No-"

"Did she have the Headmistress screaming against her?"

"Yes!"

Rachel looked at him darkly.

Emeric seemed aware only at that moment that Allyson wasn't there to annoy him as usual, nor to listen to their conversation. He would have bet that she would have made fun of him for life, because he crashed into a stand, and since she would have become his cousin, he wouldn't have enjoyed that.

_Where's Allyson?_

He had always suspected that he was a masochist.

Rachel sighed. "Over there," she said, pointing at a bed in the far end of the Hospital Wing. "She's sleeping."

Emeric started to write something, but Rachel stopped him. "She's not wounded or anything," she said, answering before Emeric had the time to place the question on the parchment. "She's just stressed."

Emeric raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, stressed," confirmed Rachel. "Firstly, because of the commentary." She glared at Malcolm another time. "Second because at the beginning, she thought that she had killed you, and I was desperate."

_Really?_

Rachel nodded. "I also fainted," she whispered, as if it was something bad, or as if she was ashamed of it.

A concerned expression appeared on Emeric's face.

"I'm fine," she said, smiling. "Now that you are awake, I'm fine."

He smiled and, coming closer, he started to place small kisses on her lips and nose. They were interrupted by a snort coming from Malcolm. Rachel glared at him once again before continuing with her explanation.

"And then, when they understood that the thing that made your face turn blue was the Snitch and that, catching it, Slytherin had won the Cup, well, she became hysterical and started to yell," said Rachel, sighing. "She also jumped Malcolm, but I fainted at that moment, and I don't know what happened. I just know that I would have loved to see the black eye on Malcolm before Madam Pomfrey healed him."

"Is that your maternal instinct?" asked Malcolm.

Rachel ignored him. "Anyway, Madam Pomfrey had to give her something to make her sleep, or she would have jumped on all the Slytherins she found on her path."

_Didn't you send Sybella on her path?_

Rachel laughed. "No, I fainted, remember that?"

Emeric smiled and nodded.

Right at that moment the doors of the Hospital Wing burst open and a very angry Headmistress entered. She glanced at Allyson, who was deep asleep in her bed, and then turned her attention towards Emeric.

"Mr. Malfoy, how are you doing?" she asked.

Emeric nodded and smiled.

"Can't you speak?" asked Professor McGonagall, a bit annoyed.

"Actually, no, Professor," answered Rachel. "Madam Pomfrey performed a Silencing charm on him."

"Really? Why, very well, then," answered Professor McGonagall. "I'm happy to see that you're fine. And you'll be much better than Mr. Weasley, after I'm finished with him."

Malcolm gulped. "Am I going to get a detention?" he asked hoarsely.

Professor McGonagall looked at him severely. "Saying improper things over the megaphone during a Quidditch match. Disturbing the players. And above all, the Slytherins won the match."

"But Headmistress, I-"

"I don't want to hear any 'buts', Weasley."

Emeric snapped his fingers to attract everybody's attention. Then he passed the parchment to Rachel, who read out loud, "Excuse me, Professor, I thought you had to be impartial."

Professor McGonagall glared at Emeric. "I am impartial, Malfoy."

Emeric raised his eyebrows, but couldn't add anything else, about the comment against Slytherins. To the contrary, he simply nodded.

"Anyway, I'm not here to talk about my preferences in regards to Quidditch, especially because I don't have any," she pointed out. "I'm here firstly because I wanted a word with you, Mr. Weasley, before I sent you to Professor Lupin."

Malcolm nodded.

"You could have been expelled," said Professor McGonagall gravely. Both Malcolm and Rachel paled. "But, since Madam Pomfrey stated that the pregnancy of your sister is affecting you in some way, then we don't want to do things which we would regret. So you may stay."

Rachel threw herself at Malcolm, hugging and kissing him like she had never done before.

"Thank you, Headmistress," answered Rachel for him.

"Don't thank me," answered Professor McGonagall crisply. "I just did what is right. After all, it's not completely his fault."

Malcolm looked at her and frowned. "Headmistress? Excuse me, what do you mean that my sister's pregnancy is affecting me? Will I have morning sickness?" he asked, horrified.

"No, Mr. Weasley, you have just been acting a little stranger than usual. It happens sometimes," answered Professor McGonagall. "But now it's finished. You have released all the tension."

Malcolm nodded, sighing in relief.

"You can go now, Mr. Weasley," said the Headmistress.

"Go?"

"To Professor Lupin's office," she answered firmly. "I think you'll have something to do in the Trophy Room. Last time someone gave it a dusting was about eighteen years ago. And it was your father who did it."

Malcolm nodded and disappeared through the door.

Professor McGonagall looked at Rachel. "Miss. Weasley, I need a word with you as well," she said.

"Yes, Professor," answered Rachel promptly.

"Since it's already May, and in a couple of weeks it'll be June, and your pregnancy is already very advanced, then Madam Pomfrey suggested that you should complete your exams a little bit earlier this year," said Professor McGonagall.

Rachel looked at her, worried. "How much earlier?" she asked.

"The end of May?"

"I can't, Professor," she answered hastily. "It's too early, I haven't started studying anything."

Emeric passed her a note.

_Accept. You already know everything._

"I can't," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"And if your child arrives earlier?"

"Well, can't I do them in September?" asked Rachel shyly.

Professor McGonagall seemed to ponder the question carefully. "Yes, I think you will be able to do them, but Miss. Weasley, are you sure you'll find the time for studying, this summer?"

Rachel nodded. "I'll try, at least. And I'll be more prepared than now, at least."

Emeric snorted, and Rachel glared at him.

"All right, Miss. Weasley," answered the Headmistress. "It's up to you. Now, it'll be better if both of you will get some rest." She left them, walking quickly out of the Hospital Wing.

Emeric took back the parchment from Rachel and began to write something.

_You could have __done the exams and then told me the questions._

She glared at him. "I would never do something like that, it's cheating." And without a further word, she kissed him and lay down on the bed next to his.

"Good night," she muttered, closing her eyes. Then, she heard him scribble something and said, "I know it's not night, but I'm tired." And she fell asleep, with Emeric looking at her and smiling without a real reason, or perhaps there was a better reason – he loved her.


	37. IceCream Talks

Disclaimers: Not mine, nope…

A/N: I love this chapter. I really do. I used to hate it, but now I love it. It's very much of a fill-in chapter, but I hope you'll like it!

To Danii: Thanks so much sweetie!

**Ice ****Cream Talks**

Diagon Alley was a nice place for walking on that June morning. There weren't too many people, the shops were all open, and above all, there were no children that ran and screamed and cried.

Narcissa Malfoy sat right outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, waiting for her ice cream to arrive, even if her doctor had advised her against ice cream and sweets in general. She didn't particularly care, because one of the few pleasures of life was ice cream.

"Waiter! I ordered an ice cream almost two minutes ago," she called out sourly. "Where is it?"

"It's almost ready, Mrs. Malfoy," answered Florean Fortescue, who wasn't the waiter at all, in a very gentle tone. He couldn't stand Narcissa, but she was one of his best customers and he also knew that she shouldn't be eating too much ice cream. He hoped the upcoming summer holidays would help to get rid of her.

"Here you are, Mrs. Malfoy, vanilla and chocolate with a green umbrella and a cherry," he said, placing a big bowl on the table.

Narcissa studied the bowl and snorted. "That's not what I ordered. I wanted hot fudge on it," she said.

Florean Fortescue sighed. She hadn't asked for hot fudge, but there was no way to point that out to her. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, and disappeared inside the shop yet again.

When he returned, Narcissa started to eat her ice cream, but also kept snorting and muttering about 'filthy Mudbloods' and 'Muggle lovers', as always. Little did she know that if you talk too much about something – or someone – you are going to encounter – or meet – that something – or someone. And for Narcissa Malfoy, that meant 'Muggle lovers' on her path.

"Arthur, dear, why don't we have some ice cream?"

"I don't know, Molly. What with all the money we spent in Madam Malkin's, I don't know if we can afford an ice cream."

Narcissa looked around at the people that were passing in front of the shop, her eyes narrowed as she tried to recognise the owners of those voices. And there they were, a couple of old wizards. He was tall and completely bald, and she was short and a bit fat, with white hair that had once been red. Narcissa Malfoy cursed the day that Knockturn Alley had been closed.

"Arthur, Molly," Florean called them. "Are you going to stop for some ice cream?"

Molly looked at Arthur with puppy eyes, and her husband couldn't help smiling. "Yes, Florean."

As soon as they stepped under the awnings of the ice-cream shop, between the little tables, they spotted almost immediately the old woman with blonde hair who managed to give herself airs just eating an ice cream.

Molly pulled Arthur's sleeve and nodded in Narcissa's direction. They exchanged looks, evidently fought between staying there and ignoring the woman, or going there and starting a conversation with their soon-to-be relative.

Naturally Molly and Arthur were too polite to ignore anyone, even Narcissa Malfoy. And after all, they had always been a little self-injuring. They walked towards Narcissa, who was good at pretending that she hadn't seen them, and sat at the table next to her.

Both Molly and Arthur glanced at her, and she glanced back at them, too, when they didn't see her.

"What can I serve you?" asked Florean after a while, approaching their table.

"Two dishes of ice-cream, with strawberries, Florean," answered Molly. "Oh, and add some whipped cream to mine," she added.

Florean took note and disappeared inside the shop. Molly took the opportunity to bend near her husband. "Should we talk to her?" she whispered into his ear.

"No, Molly. If she wanted to talk to us, she would already have started a conversation," answered Arthur wisely.

"She's the grandmother of the soon-to-be-husband of the daughter of our son," said Molly quickly. "We'll have to talk to her sooner or later. It's better if we start sooner, don't you think?"

But Arthur was too deep in thought about who Narcissa Malfoy was to them to notice that his wife had already turned towards her and began a conversation.

"Narcissa, hello?" asked Molly, with her best smile.

Narcissa looked at Molly, from her white hair to her second-hand shoes, and smiled the nastiest smile that an old woman could muster. "Yes, and you are…?"

Molly looked at her, taken aback. She was too naïve to realise that Mrs. Malfoy was simply pretending to not remember them.

"Oh, you don't remember us?" she asked, pointing at her husband and then at herself. "I understand, don't worry. Don't be embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" asked Narcissa, shocked. She was everything but embarrassed at that moment.

Molly nodded sympathetically. "You know, at our age, forgetting things and people is very frequent, you don't have to worry. I'm Molly Weasley and this is my husband, Arthur."

Narcissa's plan backfired a little as the conversation started. Molly Weasley was looking at her like a nurse at a patient. She tried to smile as she took the hand that Molly offered her and shook it. "Oh, Weasley, now I remember."

Molly smiled. "Oh, but Narcissa – I can call you Narcissa, can't I?"

Narcissa would have said no, obviously, but she didn't. On the contrary, she just nodded and curved her lips into what should have looked like a smile.

"Narcissa, you are sitting there all alone. Would you like to join my husband and I?" offered Molly.

Naturally, the first thought of Narcissa was that Molly's memory didn't work anymore, since they had never talked, except for swapping not so kind words. And now she was inviting Narcissa to her table for an ice cream!

Narcissa narrowed her eyes; maybe it was a trap. At any rate, she stood up and sat at their table.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Oh, sure, Cissy – I can call you Cissy, can't I?"

"Of course not," she mumbled.

"What?" asked Arthur, who had become a little deaf with time.

"Of course you can call me Cissy," she answered, raising her voice.

"Oh. That's so nice," answered Molly.

At that moment, Florean brought the ice creams that the Weasleys had ordered. He eyed eyed Narcissa with a bit of shock. She usually sat all alone in the most isolated table of the shop, and she usually scared the other guests with her very presence.

"Thank you very much, Florean," said Molly warmly.

"Yes, Molly," answered the shopper.

"What flavour did you order?" asked Molly caringly, much too caringly for Narcissa.

"Vanilla and chocolate," answered Narcissa, wondering what on earth she had done to attract their interest.

"Oh, that's so cute, isn't it, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded absentmindedly, then opened the Daily Prophet and began to skim over the pages.

"Arthur and I love cream and strawberry," said Molly.

The first thing that came into Narcissa's head was, 'Did I ask you that?' Instead, she said, "Uh, err, nice?"

Molly ignored her, though. "You know, you can drop by one of these evenings, and we can have a nice dinner between us. I mean, we are a family now."

Narcissa chocked on her ice cream. "A family?" she asked after some coughing. "What do you mean, a _family_?"

"Oh, didn't your son tell you about the baby?" asked Molly, a sparkle in her eyes at the very thought to be the first one to tell about their great-grandson.

"Baby?" Narcissa asked, astonished. She had indeed heard something about a baby, at Christmas. Pansy and Draco must have told her something, oh, but she was always so drunk at the end of Christmas day that now she didn't remember very well what that was all about. But she didn't want to give the Weasleys an advantage over her. "Yes, of course I know about the baby," she snapped.

Molly looked at her for a long moment, or maybe it was just a few seconds, but Narcissa felt the weight of her glance unbearable. She had to act as if she knew everything about that baby.

"So, what are you going to call her – him – the baby?" asked Narcissa, hastily.

"Well, I don't think they'll let us have a say in the matter. They've already snapped at their parents twice about that fact," answered Molly. "But I like the name Bill very much – that's why I used it for my first son."

Narcissa looked at Molly, trying to disguise the confused expression on her face with a haughty one. So, it wasn't the Weasleys that were having a baby, no, indeed. Now that she looked more closely at the couple in front of her, she didn't know how she could have thought something like that. They were much too old for a baby. But they did have many children after all, it wasn't so preposterous to think they could have expected another one. But then, why would they say that they were going to become relatives? Damn Firewhiskey. She couldn't remember what her son had said about that baby.

"What name do you like?" asked Molly, popping a big spoonful of ice cream into in her mouth.

"I like Draco," answered Narcissa.

Molly laughed. "Obviously," she said sweetly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have called your son Draco."

Narcissa thought with contempt that Mrs. Weasley was very intelligent for being so poor.

"Well, they are going to name him after my younger son, as a second name of course. I don't think they have a first name for the baby, though," added Molly.

'Who are these _they_?' thought Narcissa. "What about Draco?"

Molly laughed again, and Narcissa glared at her. She had never seen someone laugh so much. "They don't want to call him Draco, because he'll already have that surname. So they want to make a certain equilibrium between the grandparents."

"Grandparents?" asked Narcissa. That ice cream was really starting to go down the wrong way.

"Of course, they are all so happy," said Molly, clapping her hands in excitement. "Aren't you?"

After all she had heard, she wasn't. "Sure," she muttered.

"I can't wait for the baby to be born. And today is already – what's the date today, Arthur dear?"

Arthur looked at the small date at the top of the Daily Prophet page – he had to get even closer to the page because his sight was going back – and said, "The eleventh of June, Molly."

"Oh, that's fantastic. We are so close already," she said. "What term is she now?" she asked to Narcissa.

Narcissa looked at her with wide eyes. Why hadn't she stayed at home, tormenting the house-elves as she always did? "I can't remember," she said, pretending to think.

"Oh, yes, they talked about something like the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth, right, Arthur?"

Arthur nodded from behind the Prophet.

"You are going to come for the birth, right?"

Narcissa shrugged. "They hadn't invited me."

"There's no need for an invitation," said Molly, laughing. "What did you buy for the baby? We bought some delightful little dresses at Madam Malkin's this morning." Without waiting for even a nod from Narcissa, Molly spread on the table the contents of the shopping bags that lay at their feet, showing and meticulously describing every little cloth and shoe that they had bought.

Even when Narcissa's grandson was born, she hadn't done anything like that with the Parkinsons.

"And what did you buy?" Molly asked again, snapping Narcissa out of her thoughts, which were far away from the little dresses.

"I didn't buy anything, yet," she said, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, well, I understand if don't have enough money to buy something," said Molly sympathetically. "We can always lend you something and tell everybody that you bought it."

Narcissa looked at her, like a cat ready to jump on a mouse. "Excuse me?" she asked haughtily. "What do you mean I don't have enough money? I've plenty of money."

Molly shrugged. "You know, people say that after your son married that Parkinson girl, you gave them the house and almost all of the money and after your husband died-"

"Weasley!"

Arthur put down the Prophet, because that 'Weasley' was said with enough force to be heard by him, too. "I have enough money to buy all of Diagon Alley, if I want." She stood up and leaned on the cane that her husband had left her. "I'm going to buy a little palace for that baby."

She made her way through the tables. 'If I only knew who this baby is,' she thought.

When she had left the voices of the Weasleys behind, she felt much better. Until she heard Molly Weasley laughing behind her. "Mrs. Malfoy, you haven't paid the bill. Don't worry, we can pay for you."

And her thoughts came quickly upon a Weasley-cide.


	38. In Labour

Disclaimers: Not mine, really.

A/N: I'm becoming stunningly fast with all my updates, aren't I? Well, that means that soon this story will be over, definitely.. or at least until I decide to re-write it like I'm doing with my other stories. I want to repost all my stories on this site, because some of them are really too immature in their writing style. Anyway, I hope you'll like this chapter, I'm pretty happy with the way it came out, I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. There are still 2 chapters left after this one, and to who asked how far is Rachel, well.. you'll discover in this chapter! Bye-bye!

To Danii: Thanks so much for correcting it!

**In ****Labour**

Rachel stood up from the long bench at the Gryffindor table. She stood frozen for what seemed ages before her face contracted with pain and she collapsed back on the bench. She was so deep in concentration about calming the overwhelming pain in the bottom of her stomach that she didn't even notice that someone had placed a hand on her shoulder and was calling her.

She turned towards Emeric only when he called her for the fifth time.

"What?" she asked, short of breath.

"I asked you if you were all right," he said, looking at her with concern.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

She nodded again. "I just – it's nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing," said Allyson, sitting in the seat across from her. "It seemed like something."

Rachel shook her head and smiled. "No, I'm fine, seriously. I just had a little pain at the bottom of my stomach."

"And is that normal?" asked Emeric.

"How would I know?" snapped Rachel, as a new pain filled her body and blurred her vision. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, in the vain attempt of calming the pain.

"Rachel?" Emeric shook her by her shoulders. "Rachel, are you all right?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him, trying to focus her sight. She nodded another time. "Now, I'm fine."

"I'll call Madam Pomfrey," said Emeric, turning to leave.

"No!" she said loudly. "No. I'm fine. There's no need to call anybody."

"If you are fine, then why do you seem to be going through searing pain?" asked Allyson, who had just circled the table and now knelt in front of Rachel.

"I'm fine, seriously," she answered, with a determined expression on her face. "Just, help me to stand up, will you?" she asked, stretching a hand towards Emeric.

Emeric took it and helped her up.

She smiled, weakly. "Come on, today we're going to have our last exam, and then we're free," she said to Emeric. "Then I have all the time in the world to be sick."

"If you are going through this during your exams, I don't think-"

"I'm not," Rachel cut off Emeric. "I'm fine."

She stepped towards the door of the Great Hall, then she turned and looked at Emeric. "No, I'm not fine," she said, and then she fainted.

* * *

When Rachel regained consciousness, she felt as if something was very painfully trying to make its way through her body. She screamed out in pain and someone's hands seized her upper arms and her hands.

"Grit your teeth, Rachel," she heard Madam Pomfrey saying calmly. "And when the pain passes, breathe."

She did exactly as she was told. When the pain passed, she opened her eyes and found herself in the Hospital Wing.

"How are you doing, darling?"

"What do you think?" she snapped to Madam Pomfrey.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Not too good."

"Why am I in the Hospital Wing?" she asked. "Why am I not in St. Mungo's?"

"The Healers are coming, dear," said Madam Pomfrey reassuringly.

Rachel's eyes filled with fear. "I don't want to have my child here," she cried.

"Rachel, we'll bring you to St. Mungo's as soon as the Healers get here," said Emeric, caressing her sweaty forehead to comfort her. Rachel became aware that the hand that she was holding tightly was his.

"Where is Allyson?" she asked.

"She helped Mr. Malfoy to bring you here, but she couldn't stay. I had to sterilize this place," explained Madam Pomfrey.

"Sterilize for what? I'm not going to give birth to my child here-" But her sentence was interrupted by a new wave of pain that coursed through her body, and a scream of pain escaped from Emeric's mouth.

_Emeric_?

"Mr. Malfoy, behave!" Madam Pomfrey snapped at him.

Emeric looked at her with teary eyes. "But she's crushing my hand," he protested weakly.

"Miss Weasley, the Healers will be here any moment now. Stay calm and breathe, all right?"

Rachel seized Madam Pomfrey's robes and bent the nurse down. "Promise me that my child will not be born here," she said forcefully.

Madam Pomfrey looked at her, quite nervously. "Miss Weasley, you are ripping my robes," she said.

"Promise me," screamed Rachel.

"I promise," answered Madam Pomfrey hastily.

Rachel let go and smiled, but her momentary respite was interrupted by another flaming pain in the bottom of her stomach. She screamed in pain, but then something attracted her attention: an incredible wetness on her legs. She tried to stand up to have a better look at the bottom of her body, but was forced down by Emeric.

"What happened?" she asked him.

Emeric was looking at her legs with a confused expression, unable to understand what on Earth had just happened. Rachel dug her fingernails into his hands to make him look at her face.

"Hey!"

"What happened?" she asked again, ignoring his weak protest.

"I-I don't know, your legs are all-"

"Your water just broke, Rachel," said Madam Pomfrey gently.

Rachel looked at her. "You're kidding me," she said. "I can't have this baby here."

"No, Rachel, you can't. We aren't equipped for that," said Madam Pomfrey gravely.

"What do I do?" asked Rachel, desperation in her voice.

"First of all, don't push," said Madam Pomfrey sternly. "Whatever happens, don't push."

Rachel nodded. She gritted her teeth and tried to relax her body, but her muscles didn't seem to want to obey her, especially her abdominal ones. She screamed another time as she couldn't help her body to push a little.

"Rachel!" cried Emeric, afraid. "What can I do? Rachel!"

Rachel looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "N-next time-" she started, weakly.

"Next time? Next time what? Rachel!"

"Next time, use a contraceptive," she snapped with renewed vigour.

Emeric looked at her, taken aback.

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Malfoy," said Madam Pomfrey dismissively. "She doesn't really mean that."

"She doesn't?"

"Of course I do!" shrieked Rachel, as another contraction took her breath away.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "No, don't worry. It's always like that when you go through great pain. You tend to say say things that you don't really mean."

Emeric nodded, reassured. "What can I do?" he asked Madam Pomfrey.

Madam Pomfrey looked towards the door, and then turned to Emeric. "Go ask Professor McGonagall why the Healers aren't here yet."

Emeric looked at Rachel, who was now catching her breath. "I can't leave her."

"Mr. Malfoy, if you don't go and find those Healers, be ready to deliver your child," stated Madam Pomfrey sternly.

"Go find the Healers," Rachel yelled against him.

"I-I would do that, Rachel, but you have to let my hand go," he said, trying to remove Rachel's hand from his, finger by finger. When he managed to free himself, he hurried out the door of the Hospital Wing.

"Rachel, dear, how are you doing?" asked Madam Pomfrey as soon as they were alone.

Rachel took a deep breath. "As if something is ripping me apart from the inside," she answered. "Sorry about earlier, Madam Pomfrey, but it's so painful."

"Don't worry, dear," Madam Pomfrey reassured her. "Just be quiet now. Think of a nice place with birds singing and-"

"Madam Pomfrey!" Emeric came running into the Hospital Wing. "They're here."

Two Healers in green robes followed Emeric inside. One was a woman, about thirty years old, with long brown hair and big round glasses. The other one was a man, with greying hair and a stern expression.

"Oh, thank goodness you are here," said Madam Pomfrey, wiping away the sweat from her forehead.

The man smiled. "Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey. We'll take care of her. Douglas," he said towards the woman. Healer Douglas wore a pair of sterile gloves and unceremoniously shoved a hand under Rachel's skirt. When she withdrew her hand, it was covered with blood and placenta.

She looked at the other Healer, with wide eyes. "She's already ten centimetres, Watt," she said, paling.

The other Healer turned towards her. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "Why didn't they tell me it was so urgent?"

"Because you were busy with the medical examination of the patients at the hospital," explained Douglas.

A yell of pain coming from Rachel cut off the discussion. She breathed quickly and deeply and looked at them. "Then, maybe we should get a move on and go to St. Mungo's, shouldn't we?" she asked stiffly.

"Go to St. Mungo's? I don't think so, darling. Douglas, prepare for a birth, and if necessary, a caesarean," said Healer Watt seriously.

Rachel sat up at once, her eyes wide. "No, what are you doing? I can't give birth to my child here, I want to go to a hospital – a real hospital," she screamed.

"There's no time, darling," said Watt. "Douglas, help her take off her robes. That shirt is too tight."

"No!" protested Rachel. "I want to go to St. Mungo's."

"W-we are not equipped for a birth, here," said Madam Pomfrey weakly.

"We have all the necessary equipment, don't' worry," said Healer Watt. He looked at Emeric. "You're the father?"

Emeric nodded.

"Go and get some boiling water," he said quickly.

Emeric disappeared from the Hospital Wing another time.

"What do you need the boiling water for?" asked Rachel, as the pain subsided for a moment.

"Keeping him busy," said the Healer seriously. "What's your name, darling?"

"Rachel," she breathed.

"Okay, Rachel. I'm Healer Watt and this is Healer Douglas. You just have to do exactly what we tell you, all right?" asked the Healer.

Rachel nodded.

"Good, now don't worry about being at school. We have all the equipment necessary for a safe birth here with us," said the Healer.

"All right," murmured Rachel.

"How often is she having contractions?" he asked to Madam Pomfrey.

"For Merlin's beard, I don't know, how am I supposed to know that? I've been too busy keeping her quiet," answered Madam Pomfrey, collapsing on a chair next to the bed.

"All right. All we need is someone that will hold her hand and stay next to her," he looked at the nurse. "Can you do that?"

"No," screamed Rachel, as another contraction made her life hell. "No, I want Emeric."

The Healer nodded. "Madam Pomfrey, go and tell the Headmistress to call the grandparents and all the people that must be informed."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and, visibly shaken, she exited, bumping into an equally shattered Emeric who was coming back with a bowl of hot water. "I have the water," he said, hurrying to Rachel's side.

"Good boy, now put that thing away and hold your wife-"

"Girlfriend," shrieked Rachel, as the pain blurred her vision again.

"Your girlfriend's hand," the Healer corrected. "And never let her go, just stay with her, all right?"

Emeric nodded, while he took Rachel's hand with one hand and with the other he caressed her forehead.

"Right, now, when we tell you, you push with all your strength, got it?" asked Healer Douglas.

Rachel nodded. Some hot tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to fight the pain of another contraction. "Push, darling, push," said one of the Healers.

Rachel let out a cry of pain, and pushed as hard as she could, crushing Emeric's hand in the meantime.

The contraction finished. "Okay, Rachel, breathe, small breaths, yes, darling, yes," said Healer Douglas.

Emeric moved away some of the hairs that had stuck to Rachel's sweaty face, and started to whisper into her ear how much he loved her and how well she was doing.

Another contraction arrived and now she pushed without waiting for someone to tell her to do so.

"I can see the head," said Healer Watt, calmly. "It's a nice blond head, Rachel. Come on, another push, darling."

"What?" asked Emeric weakly. If Healer Watt was so calm, he wasn't. "The head?"

Rachel gritted her teeth and pushed harder, screaming another time. Every time she pushed, she thought that she had never suffered more, only to be proved wrong with the following push.

"Here we are! Here we are!" she heard the Healer say happily.

And then she heard it. The most wonderful and amazing sound she had ever listened to. A cry. Her baby's cry.

She felt the pain of the contractions leaving her body, to be replaced by the one, less excruciating but continued, of the afterbirth. Her hand released Emeric's, but he didn't even notice, as they both were gazing at the tiny baby that Healer Watt held in his arms.

He wrapped the baby in a little sheet and, rocking him, the Healer walked to where Rachel was and laid the baby on her chest.

Rachel and Emeric looked at the little baby. He was all red with lots of blond hair on his small head.

"I-is it normal that he's so small?" asked Emeric, moving away a piece of cloth to look, or, better, admire, his child.

The Healer laughed. "Of course, what did you expect?"

Rachel rocked the baby softly. "So, it was you who kicked me all the time," she whispered. The baby, as an answer, yawned and nestled on her chest. Emeric stretched out a finger and caressed the head of the baby. Then he bent down and kissed Rachel.

Healer Douglas washed her hands and then turned towards them. "So, what are you going to call him?"


	39. Andy

Diclaimers: JKR rules here.

A/N: Okay, so, I'm not sure how I came up with this name, but I can't think of anything better, so here you are with the name of Rachel and Emeric's son! I'm sorry! Anyway, this one IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, THERE'S STILL ONE TO GO! Got it? So don't write me telling me that this story was something, this story is still something for a week or so! AND READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES ONCE IN A WHILE! LOL!

To Danii: Thanks so much!

**Andy**

Rachel looked down at the small head that rested on her breast as if she couldn't believe this was her life now. And she really hadn't.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" asked the Healer. "You better find one soon."

"I like Andy," said Emeric, caressing the head of the baby with a finger. Rachel looked up at him and began to think about the name. "Andy?" she said slowly. Then she turned towards the baby. "Andy," she called him sweetly.

"Andy Ronald Malfoy," said Emeric. "I like it."

Rachel smiled. "I like it, too."

The Healers smiled at one other. They had done well again. "Emeric – it is Emeric, right?" asked Healer Douglas.

Emeric nodded.

"Will you please wait beyond the curtain?" she asked sweetly. "We have to clean up a bit."

He nodded yet again.

"I think you can help Healer Watt with the first bath of your child," she added, taking Andy from Rachel's arms and giving him to Watt.

"T-the first bath?" he stammered.

"Come on," said Healer Watt, "it's not that difficult."

In the meantime, Healer Douglas drew the curtain around Rachel's bed. "How are you doing?" she asked, smiling.

"As if something just cut me from the inside," she murmured, staring at the ceiling.

"It's normal," said the Healer. "The only consolation that I can give you is that you won't feel all this pain next time."

Rachel looked at the Healer. "I don't think there will be a next time," she said.

"You never know," answered the Healer. "Now, let's clean this place up a bit."

The Healer pulled out her wand and pointed it towards the bed. "Tergeo." The bed and Rachel's legs cleaned up instantly.

"Thanks," said Rachel.

The Healer smiled, then put her wand back into her pocket and, picking up the bowl of hot water that Emeric had brought in, she helped Rachel to wash up a little. When she was all wet, the Healer dried her with a spell; and finally, she helped Rachel into a long white tunic which closed in the back.

"Better?" asked the Healer.

Rachel nodded, laying back on the pillow. From between a floating cascade of red curls, she looked at Healer Douglas as the Healer explained what to do to ease the pain in the next hours and which potions to take and when.

When the curtain was, once again, moved aside, Emeric walked slowly towards her, rocking and kissing the little bundle that he held in his arms. He placed Andy once again on Rachel's chest.

"Look, he got all dressed up for his mum," said Emeric, kissing Rachel on the forehead. Rachel let out a snort of laughter, and kissed Andy. Andy didn't kiss anybody, yet, but he yawned, and that seemed the most wonderful thing that his two young parents had ever seen.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey entered the room, and, glancing at the baby, a smile appeared on her face. "Oh my, you did – how did you do?"

"We told you that we had all the necessary equipment with us, Madam Pomfrey," said Healer Watt.

"I can't believe it," muttered Madam Pomfrey. Then, as if she had regained her control all at once, she said, "There's quite a crowd out there. What should I do? Let them in? I would prefer to keep them all out."

"You have to ask them," said the Healer, nodding towards Emeric and Rachel.

"Maybe let them enter in small groups," suggested Emeric.

Madam Pomfrey walked towards them and looked at the baby with a soft smile on her face and sighed. "Who do you want to see first?"

"Our parents," answered Rachel.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Wise decision, since Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley were becoming rather impatient."

"Better if we go," said Healer Watt. "You should come to the hospital for some routine exams, Rachel."

Rachel nodded. "Thank you, Healer," she said.

"You are welcome," he answered, opening the door for Healer Douglas and then following her outside. They could hear a babble of voices that began to question the Healers.

"Ready?" asked Emeric, watching the door, waiting for their parents to enter at any moment.

"I would prefer to give birth to another baby right now rather than talk to our parents," she said, smiling weakly.

But it was too late, because the door opened and two women ran – literally ran – in, followed by two men.

"Rachel! Emeric!" Hermione called them, from the bottom of the bed. "What? How? Here?"

Rachel hushed her gently. "Mum, be quiet, or you'll wake up Andy."

"Andy?" asked Pansy. Rachel, Emeric and Hermione looked at her. "He's wonderful," she said truthfully, smiling.

Pansy and Hermione got closer and looked at the baby, who was resting on his mother's chest, and they both melted into a fit of 'Oh, isn't he adorable?'

Ron and Draco approached the bed too. They didn't know why, but they were both feeling strange about this little boy, who had caused them so many problems in the past months and at the same time had brought them closer, maybe in a not always wanted way.

Ron gulped as he saw the little head, the small hands and the blond hair that stuck out of the small swaddling sheet, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the soft smile on Rachel's face. She seemed so happy. And, she really was happy.

Draco was staring down at his grandson with his mouth open and his eyes wide. He thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in all his life, except maybe for his son. But then again, his son was there and he was happy, just like him.

"And these two men who didn't even want to come and greet you are your grandfathers, Andy." Rachel's voice seemed to come from a great distance, and had the power to shake them from their contemplation.

Ron and Draco got closer, and Rachel smiled at them both. Ron kissed her on the forehead, lingering on her skin as if he wanted to feel his little girl as long as he could.

When he stood up, he looked at Emeric and, for a moment, Emeric had the fear that he wanted to kiss him as well, but Ron limited it to a shake of the hand, to Emeric's great relief.

Draco, to the contrary, hugged Emeric and kissed Rachel too. "Can I?" he asked, gesturing towards the baby.

Rachel nodded and slowly raised her child and placed him carefully in Draco's arms. Draco looked at the baby with the strange sensation that everything he was doing wasn't real. He stood for a while with the baby in his arms and then, he looked at Ron.

Cautiously, Draco stretched his arms towards Ron and offered him the sleeping baby. "You take him first," he said.

Ron looked at him as if he was mad. "What?" he asked.

"It's your daughter that gave birth to this boy, you have the right to hold him first," explained Draco seriously.

"Yes, but your son helped and-"

"Weasley, hold this baby, before I hex you," hissed Draco.

Ron stretched towards him and took the baby in his arms, occasionally touching Draco's hands, but without caring. He looked at the baby with the typical frown of fear that he would hurt the baby just by holding him, and held him against his chest.

The baby nestled into Ron's robes and Ron let out an 'Oh' very similar to the ones that Pansy and Hermione had just emitted.

"Hi, Andy, I'm your granddad, Ron," said Ron, touching the baby's chin with a finger. "How are you doing?"

The baby was passed to everybody before Draco held him. He took him in his arms as if he was a porcelain doll. When he finished gazing at him, he gave Andy back to his parents.

"Better if we go and let the others in," said Pansy, pulling Draco for his sleeve.

Everybody nodded and, kissing Rachel, Emeric and Andy many, many times, they left the Hospital Wing.

A small crowd of people entered the door. These were Rachel's cousins and brothers.

"No, no, no!" Madam Pomfrey would have shrieked, but she didn't dare because she was afraid she would wake the baby. "No more than six people at once," she hissed instead. "And you are-" She counted them. "Nine!"

"Please, Madam Pomfrey," pleaded Thomas. "Let us stay, we promise you won't even notice us."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey, it'll take less time to see all the people out there," said Rachel.

Madam Pomfrey snorted. "All right, but only for five minutes. For Merlin's beard, there's someone here that has just given birth to a baby."

Everybody nodded. Then, they crowded around the bed and stared at the newborn Malfoy.

"He's so small," said Daniel. "What did you name him?"

"Andy," answered Emeric.

"Oh," said Wyatt, disappointed. "I hoped you were going to name him after me."

Rachel smiled. "Sorry, Wyatt."

"It's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen," said Alexis. "I'm already in love with him."

A murmur of approval ran through the Weasleys and Potters.

"Five minutes have passed," said Madam Pomfrey, entering the room from her office. "Now, out."

Only Malcolm put up a little resistance, but Madam Pomfrey shoved him out dismissively.

Then Molly and Arthur entered, followed by a tall haughty woman.

"Grandmother, you came!" exclaimed Emeric, looking at her with his eyes wide.

Narcissa, who was finally aware whose baby those fool Weasleys were talking about, gave Emeric and Rachel a little package.

"This is not my real present," she said airily. "My real present is a Quidditch pitch, which will be built right behind your house. Because I have the money to afford a Quidditch pitch," she added, directing this towards the Weasleys.

Arthur and Molly ignored her, or maybe they didn't hear at all, since they were too busy staring at their first great-grandson.

When the last person in front of the door had left the Hospital Wing, or was sent away by Madam Pomfrey, Rachel sighed heavily.

"Is something wrong?" asked Emeric, alarmed.

"Should there be?" she asked sweetly.

He looked around. "No."

"In fact, I think I will never be able to tear my eyes away from my child," she answered.

"I know the sensation. It's exactly what I'm feeling right now," he whispered into her ear, stroking the hair away.

"I love you, Emeric," said Rachel. "And I love Andy."

Emeric didn't need to tell her that he loved her as well. He pressed his lips to her forehead and kissed her softly, then leaned his cheek on her head and watched as his son moved up and down, following Rachel's breath.

What they had felt until that very moment disappeared like snow that melted under the sun, and in less than a minute, they understood. They understood that they had never been happier than in that moment.


	40. And They All Lived Happily Ever After

Disclaimers: Everything you recognise is not mine.

A/N: This is not exactly a chapter, it's a kind of an epilogue. I think it's the funniest thing I've ever written, and so you can imagine the others. Well, this is definitely the last chapter, I really hope that you liked this story. I would say that you better stay tuned because I've decided to re-write all my stories and re-post them with better characterization, better grammar, better language and so on.. Anyway, let me know what do you think about this epilogue. Be nice, today is my b-day! LOL!

To Danii: Thanks so much for your help and your patience.

**And They**** All Lived Happily Ever After… Or Did They?**

Now, you'll be asking what happened to Emeric, Rachel, Andy and all the others, correct? Well, the story is quite long, but I decided to summarize it for you. Ready? All right, let's go!

During the summer of their sixth year, Emeric and Rachel went to live together at the Nest, with Andy naturally, but came back to school in September. Who did they leave the baby with? Well, Andy lived like a king. He spent a week with Molly and Arthur, another with Ron and Hermione, and another with Pansy and Draco (nobody trusted Narcissa, even if she said that she would have been ten times better than those damn Weasleys with the baby).

At the end of their last school year, Emeric and Rachel had completely moved into the Nest, and Emeric had found a job at the Ministry. Ron was right after all, they had to earn some money. They married at twenty-four, with a great ceremony at the Malfoy Mansion, but Ron almost didn't show up. He had just had another row with Draco about the colours of the tablecloths on the buffet.

Malcolm and Su went out for about two years, until the evening before prom. Malcolm finally found the courage to tell Su that he really couldn't take her anymore. Unluckily, Su had to tell him something: she was pregnant. Su's parents, Cho Chang and Roger Davies, fainted when she told them. Malcolm's were a bit more prepared.

Ron told his youngest son, Daniel, that if he even got close to a girl before he had a job, he would kill him and cut his corpse in pieces so small that nobody would ever recognize him. Daniel never married.

Narcissa had to move in with her son, to the great displeasure of Pansy, because Narcissa had spent all her money on expensive gifts for Andy, just to prove that she had more money than the Weasleys. "As if it's necessary," had muttered Pansy once.

Draco, Pansy, Ron and Hermione became, if not friends, at least closer acquaintances than before, since they had to spend all the holidays together. Draco and Ron had also exchanged a kiss on the cheeks once, but they were both utterly drunk, or pretended to be.

Harry asked Ginny for another son, since he had always been fond of big families, but Ginny told him that he had to knock her out if he wanted to have another child from her. Inexplicably, two days later, she was hit by a Bludger while taking a bath, and nine months later, Harry was holding his third son, Martin.

Fleur protested that she had never said that the baby would have been a girl, she was talking about the curtains. What that meant nobody knew. She said that it was all the fault of her terrrible Eenglish.

And Andy? Well, Andy grew up as the most spoiled kid of his age. As soon as he opened his mouth, someone gave him whatever he had asked. Luckily, Hogwarts made him behave properly, especially when both his grandfathers threatened to take away the Quidditch pitch from behind the Nest the moment he was sorted into Hufflepuff. But then he was made prefect and Head Boy. The only real problem he had was when he impregnated the Head Girl…

But that's another story.

The End


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